As It Began
by Mercedes Aria
Summary: Once Upon A Time does not always end with Happily Ever After, even after the Dragon is slain.  Tarrant/Alice; Tarrant/Mirana
1. Dirge of the White Queen

**AN:**_ It's been years since I've written anything and I'm hoping this will get me going again. This may be a one-shot deal; still deciding whether I can make the committment to expanded this. The story is certainly there. Set prior to the movie. I've done my best to proof reread, but please feel free to let me know what I've missed (just don't be a Bandersnatch about it lol). However, I'm obsessive-complusive about re-reading my stuff to correct errors so as you read this, I'm probably in the document manager making corrections. Hehee. In some places, paragraphs are structured in a way to make a point, though I try not to deviated too far from standard form. _

_All standard disclaimer apply: Disney, Burton, Carroll, etc._

_Mahalo for reading and reviewing. _

**Dirge of the White Queen**

_An ode to our beloved Queen, may she one day return to power_

_Once upon time there was a pretty little princess of a strange, strange land who was very, very good and very, very kind. Heir to the throne was she, but she spent her days carefree, playing in the gardens with a strange, strange boy- the son of servants in her parents' court who made strange, odd toys that mooed and quacked and clicked and clacked. They danced all day by the babbling brooks, told secrets, and discovered new fairy lands in the flowers beds. But then one day, her dear friend went far away; his parents no longer served in her parents' courts._

_The pretty little princess grew taller and kinder, and older and wiser. She spent her days learning practical things that a queen should know, shut away from the strange, strange world, with only tutors to lecture about rules and responsibility. And the pretty little princess now rarley smiled. When she had no duties, she just sat in her room with a sad, sad stare._

_A new attendant arrived in her parents' court one day. He was a strange, strange man; stranger than strange he was down right odd, but he made the most beautiful things to wear. He worked in seculsion and was rarely seen, but soon he was an associate of the King. Strange, Strange was the way he had to make the monarch laugh, which a very difficult, very hard thing to do._

_The pretty little princess one day came to his quarters, curious and bored, tired and sad. She hid behind the door and watched him work in a flurry, a frenzy, a very mad way with scraps flying here and chunks flying there. She wasn't quite sure how he discovered her cover and threw the door shut. A bit frightened, a bit scared of what he might do, she wasn't prepared when he simply just stared... And smiled._

_Then one day, just he as promised, he came to make her pretty things. In his creative furor, something fell from his wrist- a bracelet of acorns, odd bits, and strange bobs. As the pretty little princess reached for the trinket, he stopped and watched curiously as she simply just stared... And smiled._

_Somehow, someway, her childhood best friend had found her again._

_The Queen and King began to spend more and more time away from the castle, in other strange realms, for very long extended times, and the pretty little princess could not be left unchaperoned; it was not proper! So the childhood friends, they plotted and planned and schemed and prayed until her father appointed her dear friend as her guardian, her protector._

_Routine wasn't to change simply because the Queen and King were away, but instead of studies and duties and boring old things, they danced and ran and they laughed and dreamed..._

_All too soon the pretty little princess became the age when she had to choose between a noble knight, a prince in white, or her childhood best friend._

_Did she marry for love or did she marry for duty?_

_The pretty little princess she made her choice, but, oh, how she's suffered ever since._

_She could never tell a soul her choice, not now, not yet, but when she was Queen, there would be a New Order, no need for hiding or lying, all would be seen. But the old Bishop, he warned before he joined them matrimonially, that their journey would be daunting and not at all smooth. Impossible absolutely their union would be. She laughed at the notion; impossible was possible in this strange, strange land if you only believed. But the old Bishop, with grave, sad, eyes, slowly shook his head. "I've seen it before in the past. Before you were many who believed the same things, but it never would last."_

_"My father told me," she did reply, "to choose a King based on the size of his heart and the strength of his character. My choice I have made is much better, far wiser that the one my Mother made for me." And the Bishop's words fell to floor, trampled underneath dancing feet._

_And the pretty little princess was quite content to pass the days playing house with her childhood best friend._

_Her days were spent masquerading as an eligible woman who became engaged to a knight whom some called a knave. She was a proper princess so good and kind who was never disobediant and never lied while her childhood best friend stood by her side as her guardian and chaperone, her protector and guide. Clandestine in shadows, through small trickeries and tiny white lies, she danced as little wife to her dear, sweet friend._

_So short was the time that the childhood friends played for the Queen became ill and the King gravely injured. And instantly, the pretty little princess became the pretty little Queen of a strange, strange land. She stood before the kingdom at the grand coronation, unprepared and confused, not sure what to do, for her monarch lessons she'd shunned for merriment's sake._

_The mantle of Queen she bore choked her soul; weighted by a burden she never wished to bare. But bare she must, duty now called: The charter set forth centuries before dictated that she had but one destinity that could ne'er be changed._

_And her childhood best friend continued to loyally, diligently serve his furtive bride, waiting with joy for the promised New Order where a Queen could marry her equal in character regardless of his birth._

_That New Order never quite came for in the anguish and confusion of the former monarchs passing, the pretty little Queen's virulent and jealous Sister discovered the secret and used it against her._

_It happened so fast-with the Kingdom surrounded, her Sister proclaimed her unfit to rule, called her uncaring and selfish with no thought for the people and the Sister, she stripped the pretty little Queen of her crown. All that was white was now swarthed in red._

_And what of her childhood best friend? He was labeled a traitor, a thief, a seducer, and worst of all, mad. Banished forever he was from the court, and his ties all severed from the pretty little Queen._

_And that strange, strange land with its odd, odd denizens was plunged into rouge darkness. Not even an ember of hope remained._

_Much Time has past leaving the pretty little Queen all alone with her regrets. The burden grows greater with each passing day as the laments of her people grow louder with more despair. Her head bows low and her eyes are bluer now than before. Her frail hands sit folded her lap with her left hand on top. She stares with sorrow at the bracelet round her wrist made of bobs and bits of very odd things and the slender silver band that encompasses her third finger- both made by her childhood best friend._

_And so as the pretty little Queen awaits the day when she must return to take back her throne, she wonders and worries, that if victorious would she again have to choose between a noble knight, a prince in white, or her childhood best friend? And if she did, what would she do? Would she make the same choice? Would it all end the same? In the same very awful, very terrible way?_

_Pretty little Queen, her expression never changes. Features etched with meloncholy, the tears have since ceased falling like rain._

_Pretty Little Queen, her expression never changes..._


	2. Up the Rabbit Hole

_An: I guess I'm making the commitment to write here due to the fact that is hardly anything on the White Queen. Until the dvd comes out, not all movie facts may be right, hard to remember everything. Some of my interpretations of Underland and characters are based on the Wii game which shows more of Underland than the movie did. This tale is set just prior to and during the movie. Alice isn't the only one who must remember the past to secure the future..._

_Standard disclaimers apply._

**Chapter 1: Up the Rabbit Hole**

"_I feel as if my whole life has been nothing but a dismal play, presented just for someone else's amusement, and the playwright who invented my cruel twist of fate is somewhere far above me, laughing and laughing at his creation." - The Hostile Hospital by Lemony Snicket_

White upon white, ivory upon ivory, endless halls and twisted towers, all meant to reflect whatever light might be left in the world. But like eating too many marshmellows, too much white left Mirana feeling ill. To add to that queasiness, the winds of Underland had changed in the past week. Something was coming, yet Mirana was uncertain precisely what was coming. Was it good? Was it bad? Was it neither?

She glided up the staircase, watching the white steps as she went, with one hand on the white banister, and the other hand holding her white skirts. She entered a white hall, turned left into another white hall, hurried past seven white doors, turned right into a foyer with another white door, placed her hand upon a white marble door knob, and entered a white chamber. It was all Mirana could do not to scream.

A sharp rap came at the door almost soon as she closed it and rather than answer it, Mirana gingerly tiptoed to the door and quietly locked it.

"Your Majesty?" the high-pitched soprano of her personal attendant, Clara, cut through the heavy wooden door as though it were standing wide open. "There are-"

"Forgive me," Mirana trilled with an airy pitch, emptying her voice of any emotion. "I am terribly tired at the moment. Allow me a period of undisturb rest and I will speak with the Ladies at tea."

"Yes, Ma'am...." Clara's voice fell silent, her disapproval of Mirana's refusal to speak to her court lingered.

The vapid Ladies of her court nauseated her even more than being drowned in white. She did not care to be surrounded by a group of ninnies all speaking and acting as though all was right with the world. She often questioned how they became a part of her inner group, until she remember that they were all that was left. There was no one else to replace them. And the only thing worse than being with them was being completely alone.

Sadness washed over her at the thought and she stared unblinking at the wall for some time. Then her gazed passed over the full length mirror standing against the wall near her bed and it jolted her back to the present time.

_I must get out of here,_ she thought desperately. But she could not go anywhere looking as she did for her sister's army would instantly spot and she did not wish to face any of her numerous fears at the moment. She simply wanted to escape the whiteness.

Mirana pulled open the wardrobe and wormed herself to that back of it nearly suffocating in the gowns and dresses as she did. She had to contort her body in a less than pleasant manner in order to reach the traveling clothes that were hidden there. As she pulled the garments out into the light, a spool of thread fell and skipped across the floor. Mirana dropped the clothes and scrurried to catch the thread before it was lost in the shadows somewhere. A sigh of relief passed between her lips as she caught the run away spool. Grasping it tightly as though it might escape should it have the chance, Mirana twisted into the back of the wardrobe once more and pulled out a jacket made of a peculiar green material that was most certainly not made for her. She slipped her hand under the flap of the front right pocket, gently returning the thread to its home. Lovingly, she smoothed down the lifted collar and dusted off the coat as she had done every week for the past ten years. Before returning it to the wardrobe, Mirana held it close to her cheek and closed her eyes. Images drifted through her mind of times gone by as the scent of the coat's former owner wafted around her. But the images were blurred as scent was fading. Soon she would not be able to see those lovely memories anymore. She opened her eyes and smoothed out the wrinkles she had caused. Her heart should be heavy in this sad moment if it wasn't already so heavy. When something becomes so heavy for so long one can no longer feel any difference when more heaviness is added to. And that is why Mirana went about changing her attire without shedding any tears or even frowning; she had no capacity left to feel additional emotion.

As she put on a coat that was this time made for her, she discovered that she could not pull her left wrist through the sleeve; she was caught on the lining of the coat.

_Peculiar,_ she mused as she pulled her arm back out. She inspected her wrist and determined that the culprit was the odd bracelet she wore, the one Clara had been trying to get her to dispose of for years. It was not the bracelet that one would expect a Queen to wear, but rather one that one would expect a common person that like to wear hand made jelewry of things that should not be used for making jewlery to wear. Her coat sleeve had caught on the triangular bead with rounded edges that look strangely like a piece of a porcelain tea cup. Mirana lightly fingered piece and in doing so, her room transformed into Marmoreal's kitchen such as it was nearly twenty years before.

"_I'm not sure this is what Mother meant when she told us to go elsewhere."_

"_Well, if it's not what she meant, she should have been more specific." _

_Mirana looked up at the auburn haired boy perched on top of one of the cupboards with his hand extended down to her. _

"_She was upset that we got jam and crumbs on the curtains and rugs in the throne room," he went on, "but this is where the food is prepared and often gets on things it really shouldn't be on. Surely, even the Queen cannot protest us having tea in the kitchen."_

"_Oh, I'm sure she'd find something that isn't proper about it," she replied, giggling as she climbed up onto the counter and took hold of her friend's hand._

_Mirana had a difficult time figuring out how to situate herself without falling off of cupboard. Meanwhile, the boy across from her offered no help, except to laugh at her._

"_Oh, do be quite, Tarrant," she sniffed pretending to be annoyed. "You'd do no better if you had to wear all the fuss that I do."_

_He was offended by this. "I have worn kilts before. There is nothing so hard about sitting properly in them. You are a silly little girl if you cannot figure out how to sit down."_

"_And how many layers are there to a kilt?" she huffed trying to flatten the poof of her petticoats. "One? Yes, one layer is quite simple to sit in. If you can sit properly wearing twenty-five kilts, then I concede you are right. But you would not laugh so much if you had to wear twenty-five kilts."_

_But laugh he did until she realized that there was no dignified way she could sit and ended up dangling her white stocking legs over the cupboard's edge. Her friend followed suit and settled back against the wall._

"_Really," he said, taking hold of the teapot, "this is the only proper way to sit when one is having tea upon the cupboard."_

"_Yes, quite," the princess agreed accepting the cup he offered._

_The two friends held their tea party, mocking the adults and twittering about things that made no sense to anyone but them until Cook intruded with his kitchen army to begin the preparations for dinner. Cook was a superb cook, but an-ill tempered man who did like anyone he did not approve in his kitchen. And he did not approve of children in his kitchen under any circumstances. Instictively, the children pulled their legs back up and crouched down as low as they could attempting to blend in with the shadows. In their haste, they tipped a teacup over the cupboard's edge and watched helplessly as it shattered upon the floor. _

_The kitchen, it seemed to those who happened to be walking by at the time, exploded suddenly. Cook was screaming in his native languge as though he had discovered a nest of rats under the sink. If not rats, then surely mice, for two such terrified creatures were witnessed scurrying away from the chaos; one with a crooked hat and one in petticoats._

* * *

"_Another broken teacup! This is precisely why I do not want my daughter associating with the servant's children. How many more of my teacups will they break?"_

"_It's only a teacup, Miriam," the king sighed, reluctantly pulling himself away from his books, to tend to his irrate and rather irrational wife. "Not even a good one at that. Children break things. Even princesses. Unless, of course, they are too sick and do not have the energy to do so.. Considering how Mirana began life, we should be very grateful that she has the health to be climbing on cupboards and breaking teacups. And her health has gotten stronger with Tarrant around. She's outside more and running around as she should be. I'm glad to see her less pale."_

"_He's a bad influence on her. They all are." Miriam, glowered out the window over looking the gardens. "If she continues on with this association, she will grow up to be ill-tempered, disgraceful, and slovenly."_

"_Then find the girls a proper governess." The king returned his attention to his book which was far more interesting that this impossible conversation with his wife._

"_There aren't any to be found," the Queen snapped. She glanced over her shoulder at her husband, wondering how so smart a man could be so stupid._

"_There are plenty to be found," the King said gruffly, setting his book down sharply. "You simply find something wrong with everyone of them. So either settle on one, or leave Mirana be. You act though she will have to marry the boy. She is only seven and he entertains her. Let her be a child. "_

_The queen turned her cold gaze on her husband and regarded him through narrowed eyes. _

"_I wish Mirana were more like her sister," she told him. "Iracebeth would never keep company with such... undesirables."_

* * *

"_How long do you think we'll have to stay away until they aren't angry with us anymore?"_

"_Hmmm," Tarrant tapped his chin with three fingers, "Knowing your mother and Cook, I'd say forever should do it. Though possibly a little longer than that might be advisable."_

"_Don't be ridiculous," she scolded with a grin, "Cook never stays angry that long."_

_The two friends walked along the banks of a babbling brook, not knowing where they were going nor caring much that they didn't. They continued wandering with the water until they could no longer see Marmoreal. Tarrant then stopped abruptly and knelt down close to the brook._

"_Do you hear that, Mirana?" he asked in a conspirtorial whisper._

"_What?" Mirana dropped to her knees, cocking her head to listen to what the stream had to say._

"_Mr. McTwisp is on his way...mmmm, hmmmm, yes... to tell you that.... what's that? Oh right... you're late for something or other... studies I believe. Whatever it is, it is not all interesting. The brook suggests we cross over somewhere to avoid him."_

_Mirana giggled. "It did not say that."_

"_Oh, and how do you know? Do you speak babbling brook?" _

_Tarrant pulled her up with him and they began to look for a spot to cross at. They discovered a log that was just the right width for one person to cross. Mirana set a white clad foot upon the wood to begin her walk across when Tarrant stopped her. _

"_Forgive me, m'lady," he said, bowing gallantly. "I cannot allow you step upon such a filthy limb as this. It simply isn't proper. A royal foot must be kept clean."_

_Mirana grinned and stepped back, glancing down at herself. Both toes of her boots and the knees of her stockings were tinged green from the grass, and the hem of her dress was brown with dirt and slightly torn. "What do you propose, my dear knight?"_

_He grinned up her, finally rising from his bow. He adored being referred to as knight she knew for it was what he wanted to be, even though he was supposed to become a hatter when he was older. _

_The solution to the imaginary problem was for Mirana to be carried piggy back over the brook. Since they had no pigs around, the task fell to Tarrant. He was as noble as any knight in her parents' army and prided himself on being three years older and quite a bit taller than she. It was for those reasons that he saw it as his duty to protect her and he took that self-appointed job quite serioiusly. At times, too serioulys for Mirana's taste. He could be as suffocating as her Mother's attendant, Clara, and the various others who were at times charged with her keeping._

_Once over, Tarrant spent several minutes muttering under his breath about blasted petticoats; he'd nearly lost his grip on her twice because of the layers of fuss. Mirana couldn't help but tease him about it after the grief he'd given her earlier._

_It was clear soon enough that Tarrant had in mind a destination all along for he grabbed her hand and began to run toward the most curious of trees. Around the base of the trunk, encircling the entire circumfernce, was the oddest collection of doors all varying in size, color, and shape._

"_Do you remember asking me about the stories of people and things falling down the rabbit holes?" he asked breathlessly. His dark green eyes were so bright it would seem that someone had lit candles behind them. _

"_Yes."_

"_This is it."_

"_Tarrant," she began gently, not wishing to hurt his feelings. "This is a tree with doors, not a rabbit hole."_

"_What?" He rolled his eyes in annoyance as though she was too dense to see what was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course, it's not a rabbit hole. That's inside!"_

_They entered the tree through a arched green door that appeared to be large enough for a child but was actually quite a tight fit. Inside, was a large round hall with doors all round just like the outside of the tree. Each door opened to a hall. At the end of each hall was another door. Each door led to different part of Underland, Tarrant explained, a shortcut of sorts._

_A table sat in the middle of the chessboard floor. There was nothing on the table nor around it; nothing at all to suggest a reason for it to be there. It just was._

"_Look up," Tarrant directed, pointing above them._

_Mirana saw a giant hole in what should have been the ceiling if they had been standing in a building. There was no end to the hole it seemed. She had never encountered a rabbit large enough to make such a hole. Mr. McTwisp was considered a large rabbit, but even he could not have made this._

"_This is where everything that falls down ends up," Tarrant whispered as though someone might be above them and hear. He was awed as Mirana by the prospect of what lie above them. "And that hole is where everything that ends up here falls down from." _

_Mirana could not fathom what might lie at the top of the hole if they were indeed the bottom. There appeared to be objects trapped in the dirt of the hole's walls. She wondered what they were and where they had come from._

"_I think I should rather like to fall down a rabbit hole," she determined after awhile._

"_Not I," Tarrant replied with conviction. His expression changed to a gritty determination. _

"_Why not? Don't you think it would be an adventure?"_

"_I want to fall up the rabbit hole. Everything and everyones falls down the rabbit hole. I do not wish to do what everyone else does, which is doing what is expected of them. I do not wish to do what is expected nor be what I am expected to be."_

_Mirana stared at him rather than the hole, considering his words. Even though she was only seven, she fully understood what he meant and felt the same way. She, for one, did not wish to grow up and be Queen._

_He was staring up the rabbit hole with a faraway look. Gripping his hand tightly, she turned her attention back to the hole as well. But her touch dropped his focus back to her._

_She spoke after a moment, with a conviction and determination that matched his: _

"_I do not wish to fall down the rabbit hole after all. I'd much rather fall up."_

* * *

"_Just because something is traditional is no reason to do it, of course" -The Austere Acdemey by Lemony Snicket_


	3. Down the Rabbit Hole or Alice Returns

_AN: My deep gratitude to everyone reading and especially those reviewing. I've been taking advantage of not feeling well this weekend by writing. Normally, I won't be able to update so quickly._

_Reviews and comments always welcomed. Mahalo!_

**Chapter 2:Down the Rabbit Hole Once More or Alice Returns**

"_The sad truth is that the truth is sad." -The Carnivorous Carnival by Lemony Snicket_

She did not believe herself to be a stupid person, she simply had the very bad habit of following her heart's desires rather than her head's sensibilities. She should not have left Marmoreal.

Clara burst into the room unannounced before Mirana could hide her traveling clothes and other signs of her venture into the world beyond the white walls. The attendant's eyes fell to the clothing on the bed and a scowl wrinkled her sharp features.

"What is this?" she demanded shrilly. "You've been to the outside haven't you? What a stupid-!"

"Begging _your _pardon," Mirana snapped. She never had cared much for Clara's posture of importance as though she somehow had some dictate in what the Queen did and did not do. She had been like that for as long as Mirana could remember.

Clara bit her tongue when she saw the Queen's annoyance with her. Mirana rarely showed any emotions these days and one knew they were on dangerous ground if they sparked a change in the Queen's demeanor. "I am only concerned about your safety, my lady," she said more demurely. "Should your sister's army find you outside of Marmoreal, the Red Queen would surely interpret that as an indication you were attempting a coup d'etat. She would have your head."

"Never mind my head, you lied to me, Clara." Mirana's back was turned to her so that the attendant could not see the anger that twisted her face. Her tone was ladened with dark accusations. "You did not tell me that the situation my people are in is as bad as it truly is. You told me they were not being murdered and tortured. But they are and you've known that all along."

"I-I," Clara could not find a voice with which to defend herself and edged toward the door in the event she should need an escape. "I did not lie. Not truly. I only wished to protect you, my lady."

"You did not tell me the whole truth," Mirana turned and advanced on the woman. Her features were devoid of any expression, but her voice was full of ire. "That is as bad as a lie. If I did not know better, Clara, I might be inclined to believe these half-truths and partial lies to be an acts of treason."

Clara was not a woman to cower before anyone, particularly not such a wisp of woman as the Queen. She had served Mirana's mother as attendant and confidant for too long to be intimidated by a daughter who was nowhere near as strong as the mother. And yet, in this moment, Mirana resembled her mother in the most terrifying of ways. "The Ladies are a waiting your arrival in the Gardens, your Majesty."

The Queen stepped away from Clara and turned toward the window. "Not today, Clara. Send my regrets," she said sounding now like the light-hearted Queen again. "Today I will meet with the White Knight. After what I have seen today, I cannot remain here idly sipping tea while my people are dying. With or without a Champion, we will move toward the Frabjous Day. And I will not drink tea again until my sister has been defeated."

Clara pursed her lips together in distress. This was not at all good. Not one bit. She slipped through the doorway, but then paused a moment and looked around the room. "My lady," she blurted out unable to contain her curiousity. "How did you go in and out of Marmoreal without being seen?"

Mirana did not bother to look at her. "That is not your concern."

Had Clara looked more closely at the room, she surely would have seen that the full length mirror was standing slightly away from the wall on one side and that there was a seperation in the wall that gave way to a secret passageway.

* * *

"You do understand that I do not encourage such a move, not without knowing positively that The Alice is here and we have a Champion?" The White Knight set his bishop down opposite one of Mirana's pawns.

"Yes, I do." She studied the chessboard, carefully weighing her options. "But I cannot sit by any longer while things deterorate further."

She replaced his knight with her rook and sat back. Her bracelet clinked against the arm of her chair.

"I do understand," he replied, watching her with one eye as he contemplated his next move. "I have not been outside of Marmoreal's walls for many moons myself. I knew things were growing worse, but I did not wish to see it. Not until Alice is found."

"You've left your queen vulernable," Mirana pointed out as he lifted his remaining knight.

He looked up at her seriously. "I never leave my Queen vulnerable," he said ardently, taking her rook away.

Her bracelet clinked again as she leaned forward. The Knight's gaze locked onto to a particular piece on the bracelet. "What's the story behind that chess piece on your wrist."

"What?" She sounded surprised by the question. She looked down at the white knight that hung down from the center of the bracelet. "Why do you think there is a story behind it? I do love chess, you know."

"I was merely curious," he smiled. "You have worn that bangle for your whole life it seems."

"Perhaps I will tell you about it one day."

"The Frabjous Day?"

Mirana smiled.

* * *

"_Well, this is ridiculous game," Tarrant announced, pulling the brim of his cock-eyed bowler hat down to shield his eyes. _

"_You're just sore I took your queen," Mirana said, reaching across the table to knock his hat back on his head properly. _

"_I am not," he snipped. "I'm sore you took all my pawns." He folded his arms over his chest, huffing his cheeks out._

"_You could play better if you concentrated."_

"_You know so much, don't you?"_

_Mirana ignored him. Tarrant lifted his king and set it square in front of her queen, knocking over several of her pieces in the process, then sat back expectantly. Mirana gaped at him before becoming annoyed. _

"_You can't do that!"_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because the king can only move one space at a time, you took out half the board, and placed your king in checkmate!"_

_In response, Tarrant began to completely rearrange the board. Placing the kings and queens to face each, he had the other pieces form a circle around them. He set a few pieces of the opposite colors to face one another. When he was finished, it looked as though the chess pieces were dancing._

"_The kings are tired of fighting and have called a truce. Now grand balls only are to be held in the Chess Kingdom. Would you look at that? Who knew the black king could Futterwacken so well."_

_Mirana dissolved into a fit of giggles at the thought of her uncle Futterwackening. Her aunt would surely die from embarrassment if he should ever do such a thing._

"_It is not to polite to laugh at someone while they Futterwacken," he groused. "It is a serious dance!"_

_Without warning, Mirana jumped out of her seat upsetting the table entirely. She grabbed Tarrant's hat and began to run._

"_My hat!" he yelped, falling backwards out of his seat._

_He was much faster than she was, but he allowed her to stay a step ahead. Mirana ran until she reached the Doorway Tree, which is what the children called the tree with the doors for they did know its actual name. Every day for the past two years, they had come to explore the Round Hall within the tree. Mirana so wished that she could go through one of the doors, all of the doors, to see what was on the other side. But she was forbidden by her mother to go to any other part Underland. However, the friends had discovered that two of the doors did not lead to another part of Underland but rather to other rooms. One room had a podium with a hat on a high pole and a fireplace that had an ever-burning fire with two over-sized cozy chairs close by. The most peculiar thing about the room was that the floor appeared to have staircase painted on the floor and high over the fireplace near the ceiling a painted door. The other room had many tables that were always set for tea. Book abounded in the room and paintings covered the walls. One wall had a hole into just the right size for the two children to crawl through. On the other side were more corridors and passageways, many of which led nowhere. One peculiar hall twisted over on itself in such a manner that when one went down it they slowly found themselves walking on the ceiling._

_On this day that they went into the tree, Tarrant showed her the door that led to his home._

_Quest, Nowhere, Snud, Snud were the directions to his home, he told her. Such directions made no sense to her. _

"_Oh, how I wish I could go!" Mirana clapped her hands together in wanting as she peered out of the portal at the lush greenry on the other side. Tarrant said nothing and she mistook his silence for dissapproval."Unless of course you do not wish me to go," she added quickly. Shyly, she glanced at him sidelong._

_He was plotting something that much was evident to see._

"_Tomorrow," he said finally. "Your mother has business in another part of Underland and your father will not care. Yes, tomorrow, indeed!"_

_Mirana did not sleep that night._

* * *

Mirana did sleep that night.

Worries and troublesome dreams plagued her relentlessly. Nightmares of the Horunvendush Day had always haunted her sleeping hours, but this night she was transported back in time and relived every dreadful moment when everything went terribly wrong. So very horribly wrong that all of Underland had called for her to be deposed. She woke abruptly with morning's first light soaked in sweat. The smell of torched woods lingered in the room and the screams of terror were right outside her door. It was in that instant, Mirana knew that Alice, the Real Alice, had returned to Underland. The change in the winds now made sense. And with this knowledge, an entirely new set of fears and worries were now before her.

On her way to face her court and perform the days frivolous pleasantries, Mirana spied a small tin elephant on her dresser. Astride the toy elephant's back was little girl made of wood in a white, crinolin supported skirt. Next to the elephant holding the reigns was a little wooden boy in a crooked bowler hat.

Not even such a whimsical little amusement could not lift Mirana's spirits. If any thing, it made everything even more bleak.

* * *

"_You're late. Where have you been? I've been waiting all day for you to come. We both have." By we, Mirana meant the little white mouse that was asleep in her pocket. She and Tarrant had found the orphaned mouse one day in the Gardens. Mirana had named her Mallymkun._

_Tarrant sniffed. "I had to stay over and help my father. He wants to take me on as his apprentice next year."_

_Mirana gave the hat he wore a pitying look. "I do hope your career as knight works out. You're not a very good hatter."_

_Tarrant flipped his hat off and took a swat at her. "I'd like to see you do better."_

"_I may not do better, but I could do just a poorly."_

_He replaced his hat on his head and squinted at her through one open eye, with finger on the tip of his nose, regarding her in that funny way he had._

"_Do you want to go home with me or not?: he demanded, walking circles around her._

"_Yes, please."_

"_Then do not test me, little girl." He shook a finger at her in mock vexation._

_They were briefly distracted by another hole in a corridor wall and found themselves trapped on the ceiling for a time. Eventually, they found the correct door and made their way to Tarrant's home. Queast, Nowhere, Snud, Snud where the names of four others doors they had to go through in order to arrive at the place where the Hightopps lived. Mirana was absolutely enchanted with the world beyond Marmoreal. On their way, they encountered the White King's messenger, Thackery Earwicket. Tarrant tipped his hat to the brown hare, who waved genially._

"_Good day, Princess Mirana, Master Tarrant."_

"_Good day to you, Mr. Earwicket", they replied in unison. _

"_Where are you young people off to this fine day?"_

"_To see where the Queen's Hatter lives," Mirana replied with all the prim propriety one would expect of a little princess. _

"_Very good. Do try to stay out of trouble."_

_With pleasantries exchanged, they all went on their seperate ways. Thackery was rather impressed with the little Princess._

_Little Princess???_

_The March Hare spun on his tail to insist that Tarrant return the Princess to Marmoreal, but they had vanished with no indication that they had ever been there._

Princess indeed!_ He scolded himself. _Princess Mirana would not be outside of Marmoreal with the Hatter's son. Quite impossible. Get a hold of yourself, old chap!

* * *

_The trouble Mirana had with other children was that they behaved so strangely towards her. Children of the nobles were pretenious and boring and did not understand anything Mirana had to say. Children of her parents' subjects were not pretenious and boring, but seemed afraid of her. Which meant Mirana usually found herself sitting in corner by herself somewhere daydreaming that Tarrant would rescue her from quite literally being bored to death. _

_The children of the Hightopps were no different than any other children. Some of the more curious ones, trailed behind them at a distance as Tarrant showed her around, but none would speak to her. There was one bolder girl, Tabitha, who was older than Mirana and presented herself to be so worldly. She was nice enough to the princess's face, but muttered many things under her breath that the princess did not understand, but took to be not very nice, mostly because they inscenced Tarrant so._

* * *

_The children were not the only ones watching Mirana. Tarrant's parents, his mother especially, were watching the unlikely pair play._

"_I do not care for this," Mother Hightop sighed. _

"_I fail to see a problem with it," her husband replied. He put down his tools and came to stand behind his wife._

"_That's because you spend too much time with the King. He does not see a problem with it either. But mothers know..."_

"_What is it that you know? Out with it, woman! You know I dislike riddles."_

"_This can only end badly. He has no friends of his... of his.."  
_

"_Of his what? His own kind? I'm surprised to find you think like that." _

"_That's the reality we live in, Terrence." A pained look settled in her features. "He's isolated himself from the others to spend time with her. He dreams of being a knight rather a hatter. And she is only providing him with false hope. He will have his dreams shattered and then what will become of him? I want him to be a hatter in the Queen's court just as our family always has done. I want him content with his place in life."_

"_That boy will not be a hatter in anyone's court if his millinery skills don't improve," Terrence harrumphed before returning to his own hats._

_

* * *

_"_Oh, I love it, Tarrant!" Mirana squealed with delight at the gift before her. It was an elephant made of tin and other scraps that stood as high as her ankle if it was sitting on the floor. It was situated on wheels and a cord attached to itself trunk allowed one to lead it around. With the elephant was little wooden versions of herself and Tarrant. _

_The flesh and blood Tarrant beamed a grin as wide as the Red Desert. He had spent hours gathering all the materials and molding them into something wonderful. _

"_Happy-Birthday-even-though-it-isn't-actually-until-tomorrow," he said, bashfully accepting her hug of gratitude. _

"_It is without a doubt the best birthday gift I shall ever receive," she leaned back against the tree they were under and sat straight the hat on toy Tarrant's head. "I wish you could come to my party tomorrow. It will dreafully boring without you."_

_He settled back against the tree sitting close beside her. "Perhaps one day, things will changes."_

_She turned her head to look at him. _

"_When I am queen they will change."_

_Tarrant's smile was bemused. He was about to comment when a terrified squealing was heard a few yards away. _

"_Mallymkun!" Mirana jumped up and ran toward the screams of her little mouse._

_The frightened mouse, they discovered, was being chased by a blue striped gray cat that kept vaninshing._

"_Chessur!" Tarrant shrieked at the feline. "You leave that mouse alone!"_

_The cat disappeared, then reappeared in front of them. "What?" he purred, slowly turning in the air. "Did you think I wanted to eat that scrawny thing? I was merely trying to make friends."_

_He dropped a very shaken Mallymkun into Mirana's hands before vanishing completely._

* * *

"_One of the most troublesome things in life is that what you do or do not want want has very little to do with what does or does not happen." -The Carnivorous Carnival by Lemony Snicket_


	4. So It Begins

_AN: Because I have trouble recalling the exact events in the movie, I am having to use the movie draft script by Linda Woolverton as a guide. In some places, the scenes are verbatim in the movie, but a lot changed. In instances where scenes have changed, I won't try to describe them as much as I would like to integrate movie scenes with additional ones. When the DVD comes out I may go back and complete those areas. So it will help make sense of things if you have seen the movie. If you haven't you may feel you are missing a few things. I should add that this story will contain movie *__**spoilers***__. If you don't want the ending spoiled, read further at your own risk._

_In others words, this story is comprised of Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland movie, Wii game, and draft script all rolled into a lovely, tangled ball!_

Reviews are always welcome and very much appreciated. Mahalo.

**Chapter 3: So It Begins **

"_If you are expecting someone at a certain time and they have not shown up, it is difficult to know exactly when to give up and decide they are not coming." -Lemony Snicket: The Unauthorized Biography by Daniel Handler_

"_You're leaving? But why? Why must you go?"_

_Tarrant rubbed the toe of one shoe into the grass where they stood outside of the Doorway Tree. He was thirteen now and had grown too tall and too broad to enter the tree without any Pishsalver. Contrarily, Mirana seemed to have grown very little in the past few years and now had to tip her head back quite a ways in order to see his face._

"_My father is very is ill."_

"_But he will get better," Mirana reasoned. "Father will have the best doctors tend to him."_

_Her friend shook his head slowly. "It isn't a sickness that can be cured by doctors."_

_A sickness that couldn't be cured by doctors? Mirana's face pinched together with fear._

"_What is it then?"_

"_He's gone mad."_

_The little princess's mouth formed a silent "o". _

"_So you see, we must leave. Father can't continue on- your father wanted him to as he can still make hats- but your mother won't allow it. She fears he'll put a stain on her Court."_

"_Your mother is a hattress, can't she stay on?"_

"_No," he now seemed to be holding back tears. "She must take care of him; he's going through some sort of transformation. It's all rather frightening."_

_They stood in silence for a long moment, each thinking hard to find a way around their predicament. _

"_Can't you be the new Hatter?" The words were spoken in the same way one might continue to row a sinking boat; an entirely futile effort that one cannot help to do because doing something is better than doing nothing._

_The corners of Tarrant's mouth switched upward and he held out the hat in his hands that he had all but flattened. "I still can't make much of a hat," he paused, catching his thoughts. "I was supposed to begin my apprenticeship this year."_

_Mirana tried very hard not to cry; she was ten, after all, and not a baby anymore, but the tears slipped out despite her best efforts. This bothered Tarrant greatly._

"_Come on," he said, taking her hand. "We still have part of today."_

_They entered their tree for the last time. To Mirana, it seemed as though the joy within the Round Hall had already evaporated. She had never before noticed how dark it was in the Tea Room or how dusty and old everything looked or how in need of repair everything was. Their final tea party was just as mirthless. The two friends found themselves only going through the motions of play._

"_Well," Tarrant said, weary of making jokes that neither found funny. "I have something for you."_

"_You do?" Even a gift from him could not make Mirana smile. _

_He pulled a small brown paper package from his jacket and presented it to her. Slowly, she unwrapped it as though being slow might slow down time to the point where the inevitable would be avoidable. Inside the paper was a bracelet made of the most curious odds and ends. Upon closer inspection, Mirana was delighted to realize that each piece was a memento of an adventure they had had: a piece of broken tea cup, a stone from the babbling brook, bark from the Doorway Tree, a white knight chess piece, and so on. She slipped it onto her wrist and grinned up at Tarrant._

"_I shall never take it off."_

_He smiled and pulled back his sleeve to reveal a similar bracelet that she had made him for his birthday. "And I shall never take mine off either."_

_Too soon they found themselves back outside saying their goodbyes. Mirana grabbed him and sobbed for there was nothing she could do to change was to come. There was no purpose in being a princess if you could not get what you wanted. Tarrant clung to her equally tight. _

"_You're my best friend, Tarrant," she choked out. "I shall miss you terribly."_

_Tarrant blinked away the moisture building in his own eyes. "It won't be forever," he replied, remembering that he was the older one and should be acting as such. "I will be back. I will become an apprentice to my uncle and will work hard to become the best hatter in Underland. The best hatter is always the Queen's hatter. So you see I will be back in no time at all, really."_

_Mirana's response was to hug him tighter, but his promise brought her comfort and soon her tears had dried. _

"_Do give your family my best wishes," she said, finally letting go of him and stepping back. _

"_I will, Mirana."_

_It was the last time he would ever call her by her first name, she realized. For even if he did become her mother's hatter, he would have to address her by her title. Summer was over and the childhood that they had played through together had come to an end._

* * *

Mallymkun sat at the disheveled table anxiously glancing back and forth between the woods beyond the March Hare's house and the head of the table where the Hatter sat. The Hatter, it would appear, was asleep through the most terrible of rackets the March Hare was making. However, the Dormouse knew he was not asleep, but rather lost as he usually was in a past life.

A whizzing sound cut through the air causing Mallymkun to duck. "Hey, watch it!" she squealed indignantly, shaking a fist at Thackery, who did not seem to hear her.

While he blathered on about something or other, the mouse jumped down to a lower area to avoid the flying crockery. There was an unsettling rock that had lodged itself in Mallymkun's stomach ever since McTwisp had announced that this time, without a doubt, he had found The Alice. She wasn't quite sure why or what was nagging her; it was not that she did not wish for the Frabjous Day to come. She wanted it as much as anyone for it was the day they had waited for every day since the Red Queen took over Underland. Everyone desperately needed the White Queen to be returned to power, the Hatter most of all. The more she thought about it, the more she recalled that the unsettling feeling descended upon her at the viewing of the Oraculum. All the major events of Underland were contained within it: Alice's return, Alice's slaying the Jabberwocky, and so on. But upon every viewing, there were certain events that Mallymkun looked for which she felt should be there, but upon every viewing they were never there. Absolem said that simply because something wasn't there didn't mean that it hadn't or wouldn't happen, it simply meant that it wasn't important enough to be recorded. And that troubled the little mouse most of all.

"AH!!! FRUMIOUS SHUKM!!" A sudden crash at the head of the table, sent Mallymkun flying into the air and landing face first into a full pot of cold tea. By the time she climbed out of the teapot and shook herself off, all was still at the table's head again. The Hatter, no doubt, was yelling at Chessur in his fantasy. Such terrible language Hatter reserved for that awful Cat alone. The Hatter's head now, though, was bowed low and a hand rested on his chest. Every so often his body twitched and he muttered in Outlandish nothing that made any sense. Mallymkun made her way over to him, wondering if it was a good time to tell him what other news was making its way through Underland.

"Tarrant," she called softly, giving him a gentle poke once she was upon his shoulder. "Tarrant, I have news from Bayard."

"Wrong Alice, again," he mumbled, shifting his position. "Not at all surprised."

"No, it's not that," she replied, moving closer to his ear. "Although I don't believe McTwisp has the right Alice this time either. But Bayard says that the White Queen has summoned the White Knight to her Court and that she is mobilizing her armies. Tarrant, she's preparing for the Frabjous Day! Isn't that good news?"

His reaction wasn't at all what she was hoping for.

"White Queen you say?" he slurred his words a bit as his head tipped to his shoulder, nearly squashing Mallymkun. "Funny you should mention her; I've been contemplating things that being with "M"."

Mallymkun smiled morosely, smoothed out his collar, and left him alone. McTwisp was bringing Not-The-Right Alice to them but she saw no harm in letting him hold onto to his dreamworld until she actually arrived.

_

* * *

__Five years had passed since he last stood in those halls- Marmoreal had not changed since his last visit, at least not physically. There did seem to be a darkness surrounding the castle and its grounds that he did not remember being there before. _

_He was shown to his workroom and before he could ask any questions the door was shut and he was left alone in the austere, cold room. Things had most certainly changed since his father was the Queen's Hatter. __Before long he was immersed his work with little time for much else. Word of his skill spread throughout Underland bringing in quite an interest in his handiwork. Having a Hatter who was the envy of all the lands brought him some respect in the eyes of the Queen, who mostly seem to dislike him. He wasn't sure why she did not care for him. He had never done anything to her. But whether or not the Queen approved did not much matter; the King sanctioned him as Hatter and that was all that was necessary for him to remain in Court._

_Everyday he worked, thoroughly enjoying his trade. Being a hatter wasn't so terrible, he decided. Perhaps not as exciting a life as a knight, but not terrible. There were worse trades to be had. As the months passed, his real reason for being a hatter had not materialized and he began to lose bits of sleep over it. _

_His workroom door burst open one day, and there standing on the other side was the monarch's eldest daughter, who was most certainly not the reason he had worked so hard to return. His mouth dropped open slightly at the sight of her and he did not bother to hide his shock. My, how her head had grown!_

_She circled about him like a vulture over its dead prey, finally venturing to poke him. _

"_So this is him," she said to one of her attendants, as though she was showcasing an exotic animal.. "This is the madman."_

_The women crowded into the doorway snickered and pointed mockingly at him. _

"_All of them are mad you know," she said with authority. She leaned into his face. Hers was a face he wished very much to get away from. "Well, come on," she demanded in much too loud a voice for the proximity between them. "Do something mad. Entertain us!"_

_He blinked at her uncomprehendingly. Not only was her head larger, her heart was meaner._

"_I'm a hatter," he answered. "I make hats."_

_Iracebeth laughed as though he said something hysterical. _

"_I think he's too stupid to understand you," one of the girls in the door chirped. _

"_He does have a rather unintelligent look in his eyes doesn't he?" She stepped away from him and looked him over with a scrutinizing glare. "And he's so hideous as well. No wonder Mother wanted him confined to this room."_

_His eyes fell to the floor and his shoulders slumped at her words. Not that he cared what Iracebeth thought of him, but his great fear was that her sister would share her opinion. He did not look like himself at all. There was not so much as a revenant of the boy he was once was. It was evident by his changing features that he had submerged himself in learning his trade and the results of it were oozing out of his pores._

_Iracebeth continued to taunted him and her ladies joined her. He moved to get away from them, they were everywhere! It seemed to continue on for an eternity, then a clear sharp voice broke into the melee. _

"_Iracebeth! What in Heaven's name is going on in here?"_

_Iracebeth removed herself from the group and placed herself between the Hatter and her sister._

"_Nothing that is any concern of yours, you nosy little brat."_

_Mirana ignored her and wormed past her, infuriating her sister all the more._

"_Get away from him you, magpies!" she snarled at the women, physically shooing them from the room. "Get out completely!"_

_Mirana did not actually see who she was defending as Iracebeth engaged in her a full on verbal battle, a battle which was only brought to end when the King, whose work had been disturbed by the awful screeching, arrived. He did not seem surprised that it was his daughters causing the uproar, but rather weary and disappointed._

"_What is it this time?" he had to bellow to be heard over his daughters shouting. He had to wedge himself between them before either would retreat._

"_She-" Mirana pointed an accusing finger at her sister, "was harassing our Hatter."_

_The moment the word left her lips, Mirana turned to look at the victim. She did not hear Iracebeth's nasty retort to her. Great, large eyes seemed to studied every fraction of his visage as though searching for something. When she did not seem to find what she was looking for and returned her attention to her father._

"_Impossible!" the king exploded. "The fighting between you girls is getting worse. Mark my words," he forewarned, pulling his daughters from the room. "One day you will be at war with each other if you do not put an end to this nonsense now!"_

_His heart sank. She did not recognize him, she did not remember him. Six years was too long for a princess to remember a little boy she once played with. He had undoubtably been replace with other distractions. Tarrant sighed. At least he could work in her court._

* * *

_A month passed before he saw her again in anything other than passing. When he found her, she was hiding behind the open door of his workroom crouched down like a little mouse. Having absolutely no idea how he should treat her, he pulled her from behind the door and slammed it shut. She stared at him unsure of how to respond him. Tarrant had decided that it was best not to tell her who he was, but he could not help but to stare back... and smile._

_She was no taller than his shoulder the last time they stood together like this and she was no taller than his shoulder now, but how she had grown up! Her face, her pretty face, was every bit the little girl he knew with one crucial difference. Her great eyes did not sparkle as they once did, instead they were dimmed with sadness. The corners of her mouth did not seem to remember how to turn up and smile anymore. She was not happy and she seemed very pale._

_She began to look uncomfortable under his intense gaze so he broke it by bowing gallantly to her. A ghost of a smile was on her lips when he rose from the bow. With a slight smirk, he returned to his work._

"_What's your name?" she asked suddenly, coming up behind him._

"_Hatter," he replied, picking up a pair of scissors._

"_Surely you have another name?"_

_He considered this a moment. "Some call me Mad Hatter, but I prefer just Hatter, thank you."_

"_All right, Just Hatter. Do you think you could some time make me a hat?"_

_He chuckled but continued cutting his material. "I did not think that the Princess cared much for hats."_

"_How do you know that?" She came around the table so that she could better see him. He ducked his head so that she could not see him grimace at his slip._

"_I am a hatter," he proclaimed abruptly dancing around the table, hoping to convince her that he was as mad as the rumors said he was. "I know all that deals hats and whose heads they might sit upon."_

"_You will make me a hat, though, won't you?" She was at the door now and ready to leave._

_He stopped his dancing. "Yes, Princess, any time you wish."_

* * *

_Any time turned out to be nearly another month later; Mirana seemed anxious to get away from whatever it was that she was supposed to be doing._

"_Is now a good time?" she asked after politely knocking on the door. _

"_Any time is a good time to hat a princess," he said, preparing to take her measurements._

_She watched completely fascinated with him. He was quite aware how peculiar he looked when he worked; he had once caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. It wasn't a wonder that he was labeled mad by anyone who saw him when he worked. __He reached across the table to pull a pin from a pin cushion when his sleeve snagged on the wheel of the sewing machine. He was too caught up in the creative process to notice that something had fallen from that sleeve._

"_You dropped something," Mirana told him, as she went to retrieve the object from the cushion it had fallen into. _

"_Hmmm?"_

_Rather than give the item back to him immediately, Mirana could only stare at it. Tarrant turned to see what she was doing and saw her holding his bracelet between her finger and thumb. He swallowed hard knowing that how devastating it would be if she didn't remember making it for him. The he noticed that she wasn't just staring at, she was smiling. When she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, he found he couldn't breathe._

Please remember me, please remember me....

"_Tarrant?" the name was barely audible. "Is it you? Is it really you?"_

_He nodded, having lost his voice completely. She started to laugh controllably before throwing her arms about his neck. "I was starting to think you had forgotten to come back."_

"_I'd never go back on a promise to my best friend," he said, timidly returning her embrace. _

_She pulled back from him a bit in order to better see him. She reached up to smooth his collar. "I was hoping that you might become a knight after all."_

_He smiled at the memory of their play days. "Sometimes one must fall down the rabbit hole, before one can fall up it."_

* * *

He had scurried over the table upsetting the dishes and the March Hare to get to her. Towering over her, he smiled at the worried looking girl.

"You're absolutely Alice! I'd know you anywhere!"

And so it began...

* * *

"_The bell of regret, I am sorry to say, must ring."- Lemony Snicket: The Unauthorized Biography by Daniel Handler_


	5. A Personal Favor

_AN: I really need to see the movie again. A lot of things in script are in a different order than they occurred in the movie. I'll definitely have to go back and tinker with certain parts. I'm also intentionally leaving out physical descriptors of Mirana since I don't quite see her looking the same as the lovely Anne Hathaway did in the movie, so she her as you think she should be. ;) I appreciate all the reviews and the people popping in to read. I'd love to hear any thoughts on this piece._

_A Giselle dress or gown is a gown styled like the dress first worn by the animated Giselle in Disney film "Enchanted"._

"_White Queen" by Queen is entirely at fault for this whole story._

**Chapter 4: A Personal Favor**

"_To hear the phrase 'our only hope' always makes one anxious, because it means that if the only hope doesn't work, there is nothing left."- The Ersatz Elevator by Lemony Snicket _

Mirana stood at her balcony overlooking the gardens. The White Knight stood behind her watching her peer through the looking glass. She was always there now, in every spare moment, since they received word from Bayard that Alice had indeed returned to Underland. And he had a singular feeling that it was not Alice for whom she was looking.

"You seem worried, milady," he observed, taking in her jitter movement and anxious ringing of her hands, the first sign of emotion he had seen from her in a very long time.

She forced herself from her looking glass. "I suppose I am." Her attention was elsewhere somewhere outside of Marmoreal's walls.

"We will be victorious on the Frabjous Day, my Queen." Sir Willard regarded Mirana with the fondness an uncle would have for a favorite niece. "With our champion on her way here, you should not worry about that."

"It's not the Frabjous Day that concerns me so, Willard," She sighed facing her father's old friend. "It the day after that. The Oraculum did not extend into the next day."

"The next day you will be Underland's Queen once more and all will be right with our world," he said matter-a-factly. "I still do not understand your worry. You be should be feeling quite triumphant."

_And who is to say how I should feel in this situation?_ Mirana thought dourly. _No one else bears such terrible regrets as I do for what happened. _But she did not voice these thoughts to Willard who was only trying to be encouraging. So instead she said, "It is a hard thing to forget the faces of one's subjects as they call for you to be deposed."

"You were very young, milady," he assured her, taking her hand warmly in his and offering his arm to her. "And the people did not know the reach of your sister's betrayal of nor the depths of her treachery. But they know the truth now and are growing restless with each passing day. The people are ready to revolt."

Mirana frowned. "What of the resistance, Willard? The last reports were that Iracebeth had sent the Knave into Witzend and Snud to seek out the Loyalists."

Sir Willard regarded her pensively. Ever since the Knave of Hearts had concentrated the Red Army's efforts in Witzend, the Queen seemed increasingly concerned over the welfare of the inhabitants there. The Knight often suspected that Mirana knew more than she would tell. "The Resistance grows stronger everyday," he told her. "And bolder now, for better or worse. We've pinpointed the key members now."

Mirana's carefree smile never wavered. "Oh? And who are they?"

"Perhaps it should not come as any surprise that they are former members of my Queen's court." Willard sighed, wishing for once that Mirana might show some spirit, sorrow, outrage, anything. Her blank demeanor was unnerving. "Thackery Earwicket, Nivens McTwisp, Mallymkun are the top three that we have discovered. And it would appear that they and rest of the Loyalists look to Tarrant Hightopp for leadership."

Mirana's expression never changed, she simply stopping walking with the Knight with a humble "excuse me" and went back to her looking glass. She remained there for the rest of the night.

* * *

Through the Tulgey Woods they fled with the Red Army trailing close behind them. Alice, tucked in the Hatter's pocket, was feeling positively ill from the all the jostling, and very harsh ride. Trapped in such a strange world, in a strange man's pocket, added to all that had occurred in her own world, all Alice really wanted to do was cry. But she was far too queasy and confused to do so. Abruptly the ride ended and she found herself being pulled from the Hatter's pocket and set on his great hat. In the distance, gaining quickly, she could hear the Red Army's approach.

The Hatter's enormous green eyes blazed a panic chartreuse and he seemed distressed and nervous as was Alice at the prospect having to ride a hat through the air. "Alice," he whispered, anxiously glancing over his shoulders at the impending doom that was encompassing them. "Alice, I have a favor to ask. A personal one. One of utmost importance."

"Oh? Is there something else you wish me to slay?"

"No, no. I've lost something. Something very important. The most important thing of all. Will you find it for me?" He looked so desperate, so pleading, so mad that Alice couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Truly Alice had no desire to have any more expectations heaped on her, but he seemed so despondent that Alice felt inclined to help him, in spite of everything else that was going on..

"What is it that you've lost?"

"My Mirana."

Alice looked expectantly at him for further information. When none was offered, she asked, ""What's a Mirana?"

"Not what," he shot her a funny look. "Who."

"Fine then. Who?"

"Who what?"

"Who is Mirana? What does Mirana look like?" Alice stamped her foot, becoming increasingly frustrated with her situation.

"Mirana looks like Mirana, silly girl. Will you help me? Please, Alice, you are my only hope."

"All right, I will." The words had barely left her lips when the Hatter abruptly stood. Alice clung tight to the hat band as he prepared to throw her. "But I'm still not slaying anything!"

Her last words were lost to the wind.

* * *

"_Everything has changed since you've been gone."_

_They were alone in Tarrant's workshop which was now housed in a much larger room courtesy of her father who had taken a liking to his new hatter. Mirana lounged on a small mahogany recliner that was covered in vibrant fabric swatches. Tarrant sat at his table, occasionally turning her half-made hat on its stand. The hat was merely a red herring that allowed them to spend time together unquestioned. Should anyone with a nose for things that did not concern them (which was most everyone within the castle walls) she could pretend to dislike something about the hat and want it changed. _

"_How so? Other than the rather dark and dismal feeling that seems be lurking about."_

_She shrugged, running a finger across the peculiar pattern of one of the swatches. "Daddy is never around anymore. He's either in his study or conducting business elsewhere in the kingdom. Mummy has change so much, Tarrant, that I don't know how to begin. She's nearly always in another kingdom and when she is home, she insufferable. And positively glacial! I saw her kick Bayard as he going out with Daddy for their morning walk yesterday. The poor pup! He didn't do a thing to her. Iracebeth is, well, you've experienced how she is."_

"_Yes, lovely disposition that one has. She has quite grown into her, erm, head," he snorted. "I'm sure she'll make that poor sap she's engaged to very miserable one day." He regarded her for a moment, as though sizing her up."Where you have grown height-wise, she has grown head-wise." He didn't say it to be unkind, he was merely making an observation._

_Mirana smiled an actual smile. "Do not let her hear you say that- she will have your head. And I should not care for that very much at all. But she is horrible. I cannot stand to be around her. It's terrible to say but she brings out the most violent of tendencies in me."_

"_There are violent tendencies in you?" This caused him to raise an amused eyebrow._

_She lay back against the arm of the chair. "Yes, when she and her viper's brood are around. Honestly, every time we cross the drawbridge I just want to send Mallymkun out to startle their steed, hoping the horses will throw them and they drown in the moat. Isn't that terrible?"_

"_We-l-l-l..." Tarrant stroked his chin in a way that seemed to say that it wasn't an entirely awful idea. _

"_Tarrant!" she tossed a pillow at him in mock horror. "Don't encourage me!'_

_A fight of pillows, materials, and hats ensued before the childhood friends sank onto the recliner in a fit of laughter with their hands tightly clasped together. She regarded him with adoring eyes as they caught their breath. His hair, now a bright reddish-orange, stuck out in tufts under the ill-fitting hat she had crowned him with during their "battle". Perspiration dotted his splotchy pale brow; she notice how white his skin was turning, much whiter than hers and tinted with rosy colors where one did not normally have rosy colors. His eyes were much larger and much greener than she remembered them being and his lips seemed to be turning shades darker than they should be. But beneath his changing exterior was the same Tarrant that she had always admired._

"_I have missed you so much, my dear friend," Mirana told him, nestling her cheek against his shoulder._

"_And I you, little miss."_

_Mirana's smile dimmed just a bit as she longed for the days when he could call her by name._

* * *

When was the last time he had been in Salazen Grum? Oh, yes, that's right. Never. Or more precisely never before the Red Queen's Reign of Terror began. Since then, however, he'd seen the inside one too many times. Every wrong Alice brought a new round of interrogations. Cold red metal struck the side of his head and sent him scuttling across the unforgiving stone floor of his dungeon cell.

"Yes, I've always much prefer white to red," he mumbled, dazed and spitting blood out of his mouth.

"Get up, you imbecile!"

Tarrant's mouth twisted into a crazed half-smile, half-grimace as he rolled onto his side. "How wonderful!" he exclaimed to the blurred face over him. "An unfriendly familiar face! And here I was afraid of meeting a friendly unfamiliar face."

"I SAID GET UP!" Against his will his was pulled to his feet to face the imposing figure of Ilosovic Stayne.

The Knave glared venomously through his good eye at the disheveled hatter. Tarrant pointed at the heart-shaped eye patch with a shaky finger. "One eye still intact," he chortled . "No more run-ins with mice with hat pins I see."

Stayne did not take kindly to someone laughing in his face, particularly a demented nothing of a man like the Hatter. Furious the Knave threw him against the wall.

"You don't really believe," he fumed, advancing on the crumpled figure, "that I've forgotten that you stole my crown from me do you?"

Tarrant, his laughs now coming out in painful gasps, looked up at his rival. "I stole your crown? I do believe you've been mislead, Stayne. You never had a crown to steal. It was the Red Queen who stole the crown from the White Queen."

The remark earned him a boot in the side. He curled in a fetal position gasping for air. The Knave grabbed a handful of the Hatter's bright orange hair and yanked the man's head as hard as he could.

"You know what I'm talking about," he hissed. "All these years I have bided my time, waiting for the moment in which I can make you pay for the humiliation you caused me. An eye for an eye, hat man."

"An eye for an eye, eh? I think you've gone mad." There was a glimmer of defiance in his speech."I am not a mouse therefore I couldn't have possibly had any thing to do with your eye!"

It was a stupid thing say. A very stupid thing, indeed.

* * *

"_Why so sad, little miss?" Tarrant had been sent to bring Mirana the gown she was to wear to the Grand Ball that was being held in her honor that night. _

"_I do not want to go tonight," she crossed her arms over her stomach, causing her to bounce on the overly fluffed canopy. She pushed out her bottom lip like a petulant child. "I do not want to dance with nobility. I do not want to look for a husband. I do not want to be Queen!" Each impassioned statement caused her to bounce more, a sight Tarrant found humorous._

"_Don't laugh at me!" she cried, hurt that he didn't realize that she was being serious._

"_Stop bouncing," he chided.  
_

_A glimpse of herself in the mirror and how ridiculous she looked, caused her to stop bouncing and giggle. "Still I do not want to go," she reiterated, standing up and brushing out her skirts._

"_This ball isn't like any other in all of Underland," Tarrant reasoned placing her "fixed" gown on the foot of her bed. Mirana was not fond of fussy, restraining gowns as they were forever getting caught on something and made simple tasks like sitting down and walking through a door unnecessarily difficult. So Tarrant had taken it upon himself to "de-poof" it a bit for her. "It is your grand introduction to society. You are an eligible woman now."_

_She made a face as she slid off of the bed. "I see you want to marry me off as well."_

_Tarrant cocked his head to the side and regarded her in a peculiar manner. "I did not say nor imply such a thing."_

_Mirana sighed, weaving a lock of hair through her fingers. "I'm sorry I'm in such a bad mood. It's just... Just because Iracebeth is getting ready to be wed is no reason for me to be. We've never done anything together before and I see no reason to begin such things now."_

"_You're sixteen," he told her, growing anxious for her approval on the modifications he made to her gown. "That's not an uncommon age for a future queen to marry. Besides, as these things go, you will become engaged at the worst. That gives the fiancée all the privileges of prince without the mess of actually getting married. You'll have a few years to figure a way out."_

"_How do you know all that?"_

"_These wall have the tendency to talk, you know," he held a hand out to her. "Come look at your dress and tell me what you think."_

_The frock once was a frilly, beaded, gaudy thing that Tarrant had transformed into sleek Giselle gown, the simplest yet most beautiful of detailing around the hem of the skirt, and the right amount of layers to suit Mirana but still be considered proper. She held the fabric to her cheek with a delight grin. _

"_Wait here while I change," she said, leaving him to stand at the foot of her bed feeling awkward and nervous that the Queen's nosy waiting maid, Clara, might burst in at any moment as was her way. S__he did, of course._

"_Princess? Princess?" Clara had a very sharp, intolerant way about her. Tarrant once described her manner by describing her nose as a sharp needle poking in and out of material of the Court, pricking whoever happened to be in her way. "You're mother wants you dressed and ready immediately. You haven't mussed your hair have you?"_

_Mirana appeared from the privacy screen, looking very miffed. "I am ready. There's no need to yell." She glanced around the room casually looking to see if Tarrant had made safe escape. He had it seemed, but his hat hadn't. Nonchalantly, she stepped in front of where it sat on the trunk at the foot of her bed. _

_Clara was all too quick to pick up on anything that might be amiss, particularly if there was gossip to be had in it. "Princess, was there someone in here with you?"_

_Mirana looked bored. "Should there have been?"_

"_Yes, where is Bridie? She should be here dressing you."_

"_I'm not a child," Mirana took great offense to the idea that she needed someone to dress her. "Besides I sent her for my shoes." That was not a true statement. She had actually sent Bridie to dress Mallymkun who had instructions not to make the task an easy one. "Now," she firmly turned the woman towards the door and ushered her out. "I'll be in to see Mother in just a moment. I feel as though I have an undergarment that's a bit twist and I do **not** need any help to fix it."_

_The moment the intruder was safely out of her chamber Mirana shut and locked the door. "Tarrant?" she called. "Tarrant, are you still here?"  
_

"_I am." _

_Mirana could swear that she was hearing his voice from coming from behind one of the walls. That was impossible, wasn't it?_

"_Where are you?"_

"_Here." Her full-length mirror swung out from the wall it stood against and Tarrant stepped out from __behind it._

"_Where did you come from?"_

"_The walls not only talk," he winked mischievously, "they also have secrets."_

"_Your hat, my dear knight," She made a mental note to ask her friend to show her the secrets of Marmoreal at a later time. _

_He seemed to be avoiding looking directly at her as he accepted the hat from her. "I shall see you tonight, little miss," he said, tipping his hat as he disappeared behind the mirror once more._

_

* * *

__Marmoreal was alive with music and dancing, laughing and gaiety, as it seemed the whole of seven kingdoms had flooded the her halls. The Queen and Iracebeth seemed to be throughly enjoying themselves, but Mirana, who had just endured being introduced to countless eligible suitor, none of who she found remotely interesting, was not enjoying herself. Her feet hurt but she could not take her shoes off; she was hungry but could each much- it was that dreaded word: inappropriate._

_As she was contemplating ways to escape, there was a tap on her shoulder. "May I have this dance?"_

_Mirana looked up from the glass of water she was swirling into a whirlpool and smiled. "Of course, Daddy."_

"_You seem unhappy," he commented, giving her glass to a butler._

"_Not unhappy, just unsettled," she replied unconvincingly, following him to the dance floor. "This isn't exactly how I would have chosen to spend my birthday."_

"_I know that this is not an easy thing to endure, my girl," he smiled sympathetically as they began the next waltz. "It is quite nerve racking for all involved."_

"_Where you nervous went you went to Mummy's balls?"_

"_That is an understatement!" the king chuckled. "I have never been so miserable in my life, what with all the formalities and then the waiting to find out whether you have been chosen or will have to go through all of that again in another court.."_

_Mirana smiled, but given tenseness between her parents lately, she wondered if he ever regretted going to her mother's balls. "I'll only have to go to these balls won't I? I won't actually have to choose a husband just now, will I?"_

_A pained look crossed her father's features and he twirled her to the side of the ballroom._

"_Mirana, this isn't simply about choosing a husband, more importantly it is about choosing a king."_

_Something was very wrong if that was the reason for this affair. "Daddy?" Mirana searched her father's face for signs of sickness. "Is something wrong with you? Are you ill?"_

"_No, my girl, I'm not," he waved off her concern. "I was hoping to discuss with you later. Your mother....I do not know what the future holds, Mirana, but your mother's recent behavior is cause for much concern.. She has the White Kingdom on the verge of war with the Black Kingdom for no reason. Because of her severe lack of judgment it may become necessary to remove your mother from the throne and you must be ready to step up. I do not wish to trouble you with burdens that are not yet yours, but you must understand the importance of these balls. You cannot rule without a king just as I cannot rule without a queen."_

_Her head spun as she tried to absorb the significance of what her father was telling her."Everything will work out won't it? Mummy will get better and I won't have to get married for a long time. Right, Daddy?"_

_There was nothing the White King would not do for his youngest daughter, but he also had a duty to his kingdom; a kingdom that his youngest would inherit."I hope all will work itself out, but we must be prepared. And you must wisely choose a king in the meantime." He lifted Mirana's gaze with a gently finger under her chin. She was certainly his daughter, very little of her mother in her that he could see. A tender soul that needed love; it grieved him to think she might be wed to someone whom she did not love and who did not love her. But such was a monarch's duty; he had done it and so must his daughter. "Your standard of measurement should be the size of his heart and the strength of his character," he advised her affectionately. "He should be your equal." He spun her back to the dance floor hoping lift her mood. "Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight? But the dress is different isn't? When did you change dresses?"  
_

_A smile blossomed on her face. "Its the same dress. Tarrant fixed it for me."_

"_I much prefer it this way. But who did you say fixed it?"_

"_Tarrant Hightopp. Our hatter, Daddy." _

"_Yes, of course," A vague memory of the day he hired the new hatter came back to him. The name had seemed then that he had heard it before. "'That name, why is that name so familiar?"_

_"Don't you remember, Daddy? " Mirana seemed surprised a a bit disappointed by the question. "I used to play with Tarrant when we were children."_

"_That's Tarrant? He certainly grew up to be different than I expected." The king pondered this new bit of information. Mirana was in such better health as a child when he was around. Perhaps he would have the same effect on her now._

"_Hatter," he motioned for Tarrant, who was standing off to the side watching Mirana, to come to them._

"_I am too old a man to be dancing with pretty young girls," he told the apprehensive hatter, who looked as though he might be walking into a trap. "Please take my daughter for this dance."_

_Tarrant looked at the king as though he was mad, but he did not protest. However, the pairing sent waves of murmurs through the onlookers around them. _

_Mirana was oblivious to anything but Tarrant and the rising despair she felt. _"_You were wrong,Tarrant," She said pressing her cheek against his. "I am to be married, possibly very soon."_

_A strange feeling settled over the hatter. "Oh?" was all he that he could say. What else was one suppose to say when all of one's hopes had just been shattered?_

* * *

The unsettled feeling in Mallymkun's stomach had grown into a solid rock as she watched Alice's sudden appearance from behind the garden bushes where the Red Queen was playing croquet. The feelings she had regarding this Alice were all very confusing. She was different than the other Alices; rebellious, not at all one to do what she was supposed to do which was find the Vorpal Sword, slay the Jabberwocky, and leave. No, this one, if it was her, was fighting her destiny. Mallymkun worried that it was the leaving part that the girl would have difficulty following through with, yet there was no reasonable justification for these feelings or to dislike her so much. Or there wasn't until, the girl decided to call herself Uum and become the Red Queen's new pet.

Regardless that McTwisp said she was here to find the Vorpal Sword, Mallymkun did not see why Alice had to bother with the Queen in order to find the Vorpal Sword. Bothering with the Queen was a stupid way to go about things, if anyone had ask the Dormouse. Which, of course, no one had. What disconcerted Mallymkun so much about that this act, is that she regarded it as an act of treason against the White Queen. Alice couldn't possibly be The Alice then if she would do such a thing! And to think Tarrant had so believed in her! Deep down, the Dormouse resented very much the girl who couldn't or wouldn't remember Underland. Why was she the Chosen One? The Champion of Underland? No matter that the stories told of Alice were so entwined with Underland's history and existence, no matter what the Oraculum foretold, it wasn't right that she should be to one to free Underland. That privilege, she felt, belong to Tarrant who continually proved himself to be so loyal and so faithful to their Queen is more ways than anyone knew. And perhaps, if Mallymkun, was telling secrets to anyone, she might also reveal that it had hurt her very much to discover after their capture by the Red Army, that Tarrant had asked Alice to find his lost Mirana for him. It hurt the little mouse very much indeed, for reuniting Tarrant and Mirana was _her_ objective- a mission she had been given on the Horunvendush Day by the Queen herself. Alice had no right to take that from her!

* * *

"_Just because you don't understand it doesn't mean it isn't so."- The Bad Beginning by Lemony Snicket_


	6. Promises Made, Promises Broken

_AN: During the week, it will definitely take me longer to update; work tends to get in the way of writing. Also, forgive an errors in the Scottish used in this story; it would have been infinitely easier for me if Tarrant had an Irish persona. I am far more familiar with Irish Gaelic than I am with any type of Scottish, Gaelic or otherwise. _

_Quick mention regarding the time line, that won't make a bit of sense of now: Often one of the characters will mention all their woes beginning ten years in the past. However, according to the movie, that should be thirteen years not ten. This is not an error on my part. Within a few chapters, you'll see why this is. Underland's misery began thirteen years prior to the movie, but there was a three-year period of unrest before all hope was lost; ten years passed before hope was regained._

_Mahalo for reading. Reviews are always greatly appreciated. _

**Chapter 5: Promises Made, Promises Broken**

"_It is far better to be trapped than to be dead."- The Ersatz Elevator by Lemony Snicket_

In the dungeon of Salazen Grum no light, save the flicker of a few scattered torches, infiltrated the darkness. Within the cells, either slowly dying or already dead, were the broken spirited creatures the Red Queen had thrown into the depths and forgotten. Save for one, whose spirit remained unbroken though his mind was shattered.

"Ah, ma lassie," the words gurgled out of his throat as though spoken by a brook rather than a man. He twitch and flinched involuntarily. His face contort in rapid succession of emotion, beginning with sadness and ending in anger. _"Hinka cumfae Witzend canfeh, Ahl hityi oar hied 'caw taughtie!_" With the last words, the babbling brook surged into a roaring river and woke him abruptly. His cheek and lips were stuck to the filthy floor by saliva that had dried during the hours he had been trapped his dreamworld. From the corner of his swollen eye he saw something white.

"Ah, ma lassie?" Hope swelled up, but dissipated as he became more cognizant; the white he saw was merely his own hand. Abandoning his previous thought, he observed his hand with amused wonderment, counting the bandages and thimbles that adorned the fingers of his left hand.

_That's strange._ The words tumbled around and bumped into each other in his mind. _I thought I had a ring, too. Ring-a-ding-ding, where's my ring? It was silver or was it red? Or white instead?_

Did it exist at all? No, perhaps not.

Wait...

His ring! His precious ring was gone! In thirteen years time, it had never been off of his finger, and now it had vanished!

_Chessur..! _

No, Chessur had never wanted his ring, only his hat. The only person who ever had envied that ring was-

"Stayne..." The voice that spoke that name seemed to belong to some demonic creature rather than himself. Tarrant sat up with such a ferocity that it seemed to send all of Underland spinning end over end one too many times. **"SLURKING URPAL SLACKISH SCRUM!"**

"Really, Tarrant, must you be so loud and vulgar?"

His thought were now speaking in the voice of Chessur? He _**was**_ mad.

"What is it that you're so upset with Stayne for, hmmmm?" The tip of a gray and blue tail flicked passed the end of his nose.

"The shrukm stole my ring." Warily, he eyed the Cheshire Cat, distrusting of his motives for being in Salazen Grum's bowels.

"Now what could the Knave of Hearts possibly want with a pin cushion ring?" Chessur seemed to sneer at the Hatter's misfortune and heartache. "I really doubt that he's taken up hat making. Although," his wicked grin widened, "I suppose anything is possible in this mad world. If a deranged hatter and a fair queen can-" Chessur's words were cut short as his tail was inexplicably caught and yanked by the Hatter. The cat vanished, taking his tail with him. He reappeared after awhile, making sure he was fully out of Hatter's reach.

"It wasn't the pin cushion ring," Hatter gasped, slumping against a prison wall. Underland had gone end over end again. "It was the other one."

"Oh, that old thing..?" Chessur swatted a paw in the Hatter's general direction. He flicked his tail to change direction every so often as he lazily drifted about above the cell's captive. "I'd volunteer to find it for you if I knew what it looked like. The Red Queen probably has thousands of rings."

"It is a silver band."

"That doesn't help much at all, I'm afraid" Chessur inspected his nails as though they were suddenly of utmost importance. "I would have to have seen it in order to find it. But since I wasn't invited to that particular wedding I haven't an idea as to what it might look it."

"Why you slurvish-!" Hatter was agog that the self-important cat was nursing hurt feelings over an event that had occurred a lifetime ago and was refusing to help because of those bruised feelings.

"I'm slurvish?" Chessur whipped himself over to float on his stomach. He was nose to nose with the Hatter, eyes fulgent. "We were like brothers once, you and I, Tarrant. Imagine how I felt finding out that my dear brother had run off and gotten married. I should have been best cat after all the covering up I did for you and her. You didn't even tell me," he pushed his lip into pout, drifting towards the ceiling. "I had to find out by accidentally over hearing the two of you. And to add insult to injury you had that miserable little mouse as a witness!"

"So is that why you betrayed my Queen to her sister?" The Hatter's eyes glared a lemon yellow fury. The overwhelming desire to strangle the Cat welled up in him. "Because your feelings were hurt? You are not, my brother, you wretched traitor. No brother of mine would do such a thing!"

Chessur glared indignantly at him. "She isn't _your_ Queen, Tarrant. She belongs to all of Underland, whether you want to accept that or not. What you want is impossible, no matter how much you believe the contrary. When the Frabjous Day happens, the White Queen will belong to the people again and the Oraculum will, no doubt, finally put an end to your delusions." The cat now sat on the air like a king on a throne. "And while we're being honest, _brother_, I was tricked into giving Red that information. How was I to know that she would use that against _**OUR**_ Queen." He regarded the Hatter in the manner that as a parent might regard a child they were exasperated with and shrugged. "In the end, I did you a favor. How much worse would it have been for you had the charade gone on longer and you had to witness her marry a _**real**_ knight?"

Chessur expected a tirade of angry blathering to come back at him, but none came. Then he saw that he had unintentionally done what the Knave could not; he had broken Hatter.

The man sat hunched over in a miserable fashion with his hands limply folded in his lap. His once grand top hat slipped off of his bowed head. He did not move to pick it up. In a voice so low that Chessur had to strain to hear him, he said, "You have no soul, no conscience."

The Cat slipped closer to him, hoping to find a glimmer of the madness or trickery in the Hatter's mood, something that might ease the conscience that was all too there. "If I had no conscience, I would not be here," he said quietly. In a roundabout way he attempted to make amends. "Unlike you and the others I can come and go in Marmoreal as I please. I thought perhaps I'd stop in and see if there is any message you like for me to deliver to the White Queen."

Hatter let out a bitter snort that caused him to jerk a bit, but he did not otherwise move. "You tell me that I'm fool believing the impossible and now you're offering to take a message to the subject of that impossibility?"

"Is that a no?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because without me you have no means of contacting her," he tried to reason. "With me, you have a chance at least."

He considered this for a long moment. Finally, Hatter lifted his chin to meet the Cat's gaze. "All right," he said.

Chessur wrapped himself around Hatter's face, to prevent any possible eavesdroppers from overhearing the conversation.

"Why, Chessur?" he asked after giving Chessur his encrypted message. His head dropped again and his eyes would not meet the Cat's. Instead, they stared at his hands in his lap.

The Cat slipped between the bars of the cell, looking over his shoulder at his former friend " Perhaps it's my conscience, perhaps its a plea for clemency. Or perhaps..." He gave Tarrant a sympathetic smile, sincerely regretting his harsh words. "Perhaps, I'm just a hopeless romantic."

_

* * *

__As they walked in the Gardens were they once played, Tarrant felt like an idiot having to continually count the paces between them so that he was always three feet away from her. The rest of her entourage, had to follow at the same distance, save Bridie who was holding the parasol for the princess. _

_The princess was not happy and it showed on her face. Her father had sent her out to the garden for some sun and fresh air with him, but her mother had insisted that neither of her daughters were to go out without the proper number of courtiers to attend to them. Mirana was hardly getting sun with Bridie hovering over her and she could not carry on a conversation with Tarrant for every time one tried to speak to the other, a lady-in-waiting was there to engage Mirana is some inane chatter about the most recent prince or knight to call on her. She was beginning to loathe the addle-brained women who were so in love with men they knew nothing of save that they were princes or knights. _

If you love them so much, **you** marry them,_ Mirana fumed silently, repressing the urge to shoo Bridie away like a fly. _

_The further they walked, the further to the back of the group Tarrant was pushed, though he had begun the trip at her side. He didn't care as much as he normally would have; it saved him from having to count paces and hearing about who the praters thought Mirana should marry. Try as he might to think loud thoughts that downed out this gossip, he couldn't help but hear two names repeated over and over: Ilosovic Stayne and Prince Easterling._

_He had never met the knight or the prince, but he was absolutely positive that he did not like them and they were absolutely, positively wrong for the princess. _

_Mirana reached her breaking point when Isselle began to plan Mirana's wedding to the Knight. While she wasn't one to demand "off with her head" like her sister was prone to screaming in fits of rage, she wasn't above creating a diversion to get rid of the insufferable group. She looked over her shoulder hoping to catch Tarrant's eye, which was simple enough; he was looking right at her. She winked mischievously and her friend caught her meaning. Since there was no Royal Watcher of the Princess's Shoes, no was paying attention to her feet when, with the quickest and most graceful of movements, she flicked her shoes off as far as she could. Fortune was with her that day as one shoe land in the pond and the other in the rose bushes and no one, except Tarrant, saw where they went._

"_My shoes!" she wailed, drawing on her sister's frequent tantrums for her dramatic inspiration. "What happened to my shoes?"_

_Like squawking geese that had suddenly been been disturbed, her courtiers went mad searching for her lost shoes. When a Pawn unexpectedly attempted to carry her to a Garden bench, Mirana let out a very un-princess like squawk. _"_No, no! Stop it!" She cried, sounding more like Iracebeth that she meant to. "Put me down! I shan't leave this spot until my shoes are found!" __The stricken Pawn immediately put her down and scurried off to join the search, while Tarrant chortled at the whole scene._

_Naturally, Miran did not stay in that spot. The moment that everyone was occupied she and Tarrant took off running. They stopped once they reached the Alabaster Fountains where a tremendous fountain built of albescent marble chess piece loomed to top of the first turrets of Marmoreal. Four large reflecting pools surrounded the Fountain each one shaped in a symbol of the Kingdom: the queen's crown, the king's crown, the bishop's hat, and the knight's helmet. The friends collapsed on the bench overlooking the Knight's Pool. A memorial was established at the head of the fountain, a tribute to Underland's last fallen Champion. _

"_Thank you, my heroic knight, for saving me from boredom's jaws!" Mirana exclaimed, grabbing onto his arm and holding tight._

"_I would give my life for my lady's sanity's sake," he replied with a tip of his hat. The words were spoken with a light humor, but Mirana felt him tense. She looked up into his downcast eyes and saw that they were a deep willow tinted with violet, a color she understood to mean he had something heavy weighing on his mind. She leaned down to the Memorial Garden and picked a sprig of Spider Lily. "A lily for your thoughts?"_

_The corner of his mouth pulled back as he accepted the flower and stuck it in the temporary band of his not quite finished hat. "I couldn't help but overhear the talk about Prince Easterling. He seems quite attached to the idea of-" A thought suddenly came to his mind of grabbing Mirana's hand and taking her far, far away from Marmoreal. They could become king and queen of Witzend where they would dance and sing and have tea parties when they weren't otherwise occupied. They take would Mallymkun and Chessur with them. He would make her hats while she did whatever it was she wanted to do other than be the White Queen._

"_Tarrant?" Mirana was shaking his arm with a worried look on her fair face. _

_Oh,dear, had he said that all aloud?_

"_Are you alright? You were saying some about Prince Easterling and then a jumble of words came after. I didn't quite understand what you were saying?"_

_He blinked twice and tried to smile, but he couldn't quite find an appropriate response to explain what had happened. His face blazed red and bright white. He knew he was prone to spouting off nonsensical blather that not even he could understand and was helpless to stop. He had tried to find a clue to its onset so he could avoid it ever happening in her presence, but he had been unsuccessful and now he was caught._

"_I'm fine," he said in a small voice. _

_Mirana gave his hand a comforting squeeze and settled against him. "The Prince is nice I suppose, but I can't talk to him. We have nothing to talk about. He's interested in politics and military strategy and commerce. And that is all he speaks about it. If I try to speak about something, he will interrupt and continue on with the price of eggs in the Black Kingdom. I do not care that black eggs are worth more than white but not as much as red."_

"_Well, at least you'll never overspend on eggs," he offered half-heartedly, hoping she wouldn't catch his lack of enthusiasm._

"_They're all like that, though," she sighed, absently playing with the cuff of his sleeve. "If they aren't interested in that, then it's power and wealth. And they all have the same expectations of me that they've made quite clear: my purpose is to provide them with power and heirs. I really don't care to think about **that**."_

_She was unconscious that she had intertwined her fingers with his, but he was very conscious of it. _Nor do I_, he thought dourly._

"_After all of this," she continued. "I have come to the conclusion that I'd much prefer to be a childless spinster than to marry someone I do not love."_

"_I will never be in your position, Princess." He paused, trying to gauge his words and tone carefully so that they only that of a concerned friend and did not betray him. "The rules that governs this area for us are very different, but I have to agree with that choice. It's what I would choose."_

"_You are the only one who has ever understood me, Tarrant." Mirana tightened her grip on his hand. "Sometimes I feel as though I must have been adopted. I simply have none of the interests that any of the other princesses have. I do not even have an interest in ruling."_

"_What about your father?" he offered. "A great __saganistute as he is, I should think he would understand more than anyone how you feel."_

_Mirana sighed miserably, as though the statement conjured up painful revelations. Indeed, it did._

"_Once upon a time, I believed that despite the circumstances of their arranged marriage, my parents fell in love and lived happily ever after. Over the past few years, I have seen cracks in that fairy tale and now that I am to marry my father decided to have an honest talk with me. Apparently, all of his stories about him and Mummy that ended with happily ever after were just stories. He wanted me to believe and reach for the impossible, but..." She took a breath and stared at the reflection pool, her eyes as watery as the pool."He told me he married mother because it was a smart strategic move for his family's kingdom, not because he ever loved her. In fact, he actually loved a servant girl in his parents' court. I have overheard the maids speaking of kings and queens who keep lovers hidden away and I now wonder if my father is one such king."_

_Tarrant, who's frown had grown deep as she spoke, shook his head passionately. "No, not your father, Princess. I've heard the walls talking and the maids. But that is not your father's way. He may be jaded, but he takes seriously the vows he made."_

"_I don't know, Tarrant. I just know anymore." There was something in her voice that he had never heard before. The softness and lightness her voice always held now also had the beginnings of an edge to it and that worried him. "All I have believed in all my life, all my dreams of love and adventure, are apparently just dreams that will never come true."_

_She pulled her hand away to his chagrin and forlornly gazed at something he could not see. There was nothing that he could say to comfort her and, rather than feel useless, Tarrant slid off off the bench, knelt down to the pool, and began to wash her soiled bare feet._

"_Anything is possible, Princess," he said with great conviction as he lovingly tend her feet. "If you only believe it."_

_Her gaze was still far away, but her lips smiled. "You will always be with me, won't you, Tarrant?"_

_Hope bubbled to the top of his heart as he looked up at her. She was not looking at him._

"_You will always be my hatter, won't you?"_

_The bubble burst and he looked down again. "Of course, little miss," With a heavy heart, but no less love in his touch, he went back to washing her feet._

* * *

Iracebeth of Crims was absolutely delighted with her new hatter, especially now that his appearance had been cleaned up. He would never be attractive, but she did not care to see blood on someone if she had not caused it. Her delight in the Hatter had nothing to do with an intense desire to have lovely hats or to have him around even; she had always loathed Tarrant Hightopp since the days he was allowed to play in the Gardens of Marmoreal with Mirana. Her delight was because she now had her little sister's beloved hatter to abuse and torment.

He was kneeling before her with a rather dim-witted grin on his face. She knew full well that he only spoke of Mirana's head in such a manner to appease her, but she excused this and his other ramblings because she had other plans for him. And one of those plans was to get the whereabouts of Underland's would-be Champion of out him. Her darling Knave had physically tortured the Hatter and had gotten nothing out of him, so Iracebeth decided to try another tactic-one that she was not naturally inclined to take. Words were something her sister would use to get her way, not Iracebeth, but in this case, words used as psychological torment might get her far further with this one.

"Listen, Hatter," she said, making her voice as sweet and kind as possible, drawing on Mirana's breathy manners as inspiration. "I will make a deal with you because I am in a benevolent mood at moment. I know that there is something that you want very much; you have wanted it for such a long, long time."

She had his undivided attention, but not his belief. She tried harder to speak in the way her sister would. Leaning close to him, she whispered, "Tell me where Alice is and I will give you your hearts desire."

Uum, or rather Alice, stared at disbelief at the Red Queen. Although she wasn't quite sure what it was that the Queen was offering him, it was something obviously very important to him. It had also clearly caught the Hatter off guard, Alice could see that in the awestruck look that glazed his vivid lime eyes.

"You mean-?" he whispered back, staring at Iracebeth as though he was hpynotised.

A wicked grin slithered over her lips. "Yes, tell me where Alice is and you can join your Mirana once again."

"Mirana?" He seemed uncertain, wavering, in his decision to believe her or not, to tell or not.

She leaned over further until they were nose to nose. "What is Alice compared to your precious Mirana?"

And with that, she had him!

An intense throbbing panic welled up within Alice and clamped her throat close at the curious way in which he was staring at the Queen. Those eyes that held that curious look locked now onto her. He was actually considering turning her in, she realized with horror.

_Oh please, Tarrant! No! _

"Alice?" Her name was spoken in a whimper as his eyes seemed to beg for her forgiveness.

Her heart began to ache not simply because of the execution that surely awaited her if he told, but because _**he**_ would turn her in. Surely she meant more to him than a idle promise made to get the Red Queen what she wanted. Since their meeting, an even curiouser feeling had haunted Alice than the curious feeling of of being trapped in a dream, yet she could not give voice to what it was.

_Please don't reveal me..._

He was still staring at her with emerald eyes so large they seemed to take up his entire face, yet he did not seem to see her.

"Alice for Mirana," Iracebeth urged, knowing that he was close to the edge of betrayal. "It's a fair trade."

"Mirana... " he began to babble, trapped in some unseen world. "My Mirana... Mirana....Marvelous... Merciful...Magnificent...the night is pale... chess... loves chess... Mirana... I've lost my heart... help me find it... Alice?

Iracebeth could no longer maintain her sister's infantile demeanor and shrieked in fury, enraged by his hysterical babbling. "Tell me where Alice is and you'll have Mirana!" she practically screamed at him. He did not notice.

"Alice?" The eyes that bore through her were filled to the brim with tears that would not fall.

Alice gave the smallest jerk of her head, as not to draw the Queen's attention, but to underline her plea to him. _Please no..._ _Please don't tell her!_ She begged him with her eyes, hoping that he could somehow read her thoughts. _Please I'll find this Mirana, just don't tell her who I am!_

As if he actually heard her silent desperation, he blinked and turned his eyes back to the Queen. "Alice," her name was spoken more lucidly now. "Alice begins with A. I do not care much for things that begin with A. I much prefer things that begin with M."

Alice did not know if the comment was made in his madness or if it was a diversionary tactic. Either way, the words stung the same.

* * *

Mirana stood on the balcony outside of the throne room. Though her looking glass was beside her, she was not looking through it; there was no reason now to watch so diligently now. Word had come to her from informants in Salazen Grum that Mallymkun and McTwisp had been captured by the Red Army. Worse news followed bad: Tarrant had been captured as well.

If not for the carefully constructed and fortified dam she had build around her emotions over the past ten years, she surely would have become unhinged with the news of Tarrant's imprisonment. Terrified did not begin to describe her feelings. Her sister, at the time of the message, had not yet ordered his execution, which did not entirely surprise Mirana; if Iracebeth could use his entrapment against her, she most certainly would. What frightened her to the point of being physically ill, was what that knave Stayne might do to him. Mirana was all too aware of the grudge Stayne held against Tarrant and the depths of hatred he possessed for her dear friend. She could only pray that Mallymkun was somehow able to keep watch over him and aid him when the opportune time was upon them.

"For one whose closest confident is in the hands of the Red Queen, you look quite pleasant and undisturbed."

Mirana felt her teeth grind at Chessur's voice and she slowly recounted in her mind her vow of nonviolence.

"What are you doing here?" she struggled to keep her voice even and controlled and did not bother to move from her post.

Chessur, one this rare occasion, did not feel like playing games. He had already ruined one former friend; he had no desire to ruin another.

"I've come to offer my Queen an olive branch," he said sincerely. "I wish to ask for her clemency."

Mirana turned her head slightly; she was not one to deny a pardon, unless the party requesting pardon was truly evil. Chessur was many things, but evil was not one of them. Slurvish, perhaps, but not evil. "What have you to offer?"

"A message." He drifted to her elbow. "From Tarrant."

Her heart skipped a beat and quietly she sucked in a breath of air. "How do I know its from him?"

"You cannot," he admitted regretfully. " You must trust me that it is from him just as he had to trust that I would deliver it to you."

Mirana considered this. Though she had ever intention of forgiving him, she would not make it too easy. "You are asking a great deal from us then."

"Yes, I know."

"What is the message?"

"I do hope I can repeat correctly." Chessur vanished briefly, reappearing humbly before her with a bowed head. "I believe it was _Le mo ghrasa mise, agus liomsa mo ghra. _I hope you understand that; he would not provide a message that I could translate."

A smile kissed her crimson lips and lifted her spirits, but not her worry. "That is because he wants me to know that it is actually from him. Thank you, Chessur."

"Is my Queen happy with me then?" The iconic smile returned and his ears pricked up.

"Not quite," she said, holding his gaze. "The past is not any easy thing to undo, Chessur. If you would prove your loyalty all would be much more easily forgiven."

Chessur flipped in the air in eagerness. "What do you wish me to do?"

"Years ago I asked Mallymkun to watch over Tarrant, to help him keep from harm's way, so that we might be reunited on the Frabjous Day," she told him. "I want you to help Mallymkun bring him back to Marmoreal, safe and in one piece."

"I am but your humble servant," he promised, bowing low to her.

"I hope so, Chessur."

"I am sorry, you know." He hated to have to explain himself to anyone; that mysterious aloofness was part of his charm. "Had I any idea what the ramifications of my actions would be, I would not have breathed a word of what I heard to anyone."

Mirana reached up and rubbed behind his ears, causing him to purr. "Sometimes even the most innocent actions with the purest of motives have the harshest consequences. Even I am guilty of that."

"You?"

"Yes," her smile was bemused. "Slurvish is a word that would aptly describe my own actions in more ways that there is time to enumerate."

* * *

He was back in the position he had once held in other court under another Queen, but instead of being an esteemed member of that court he was confined to a small room and chained like an animal. Appropriate, considering that that was how Iracebeth always saw him.

As he set about his work he had far too much time to consider things. And the things he considered did not give him any hope. Not even thoughts of Alice and the Frabjous Day could console him. For so long he had hoped and wished and dreamed for Alice to return and for the Frabjous Day to arrive, that he never once conceived that things might not turn out the way he had envisioned. With Chessur's words reverberating in his head, he worried that the Cat was right; that he had wasted all of this time wishing for the impossible; that he would only be left broken hearted at the end of it all. As much as it grieved him, he considered that it might be much better to turn his affections and thoughts elsewhere; to focus them on something or someone else.

There was a little less joy in his hat-making now as he determined to forget the little girl he used to play with and focus on the girl who would be Champion. As his thoughts continued to swirl, the pace of his work picked up again and spun faster.

And yet somethings cannot be so easily cast aside and who else is there to dream and pursue the impossible if not the madmen?

* * *

"_There are many things in life that become different if you take a long look at them." -The Carnivorous Carnival by Lemony Snicket_


	7. Interlude: So Close

_AN: In a fair number of prior stories, I wove songs into the chapters to act a soundtrack to the tales (not really in the typical sense of a songfic); however this is not one of those stories. On occasion, there will be an interlude piece like this that contains a crucial song to the tale that doesn't belong in the middle of a chapter. There will be very few of these; although there were a number of songs that did serve as a soundtrack during the months of development this story had in my head. At the end of the final chapter, I may list those songs, but not the lyrics._

_Thank you for all the reviews particularly the last two for the previous chapter. I am humbled and flattered. :) Mahalo._

_Lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, music by Alan Menken as performed by John McLaughling; from Disney's Enchanted._

**Interlude: So Close**

For ten years they had been on opposite sides of Underland; one confined to an alabaster prison, the other free to go where he pleased, except to that alabaster bastille. The Red Army and other more terrifying slaves of the Red Queen surrounded her habitation, forever blocking his path. Always so very near, yet there might as well have been a chasm between them. And now he sat in a prison of his own, one of ebony and crimson.

There had been no shooting stars to wish upon in that decade. As the very stars themselves seemed to grow dimmer with each passing day, so did the hopes of the souls within the alabaster and ebony stockades. So fast were they fading that they might well be gone before a legendary Champion had a chance to catch hold of them.

Then from somewhere in the night, perhaps on the winds from the Outlands or from across the Red Desert or floating down from the world above them, a thin string of mellifluous music came, twisting its way delicately through Underland.

Three people heard its cry that night.

_You're in my arms and all the world is calm. The music playing on for only two..._

_So close together and when I'm with you, so close to feeling alive ..._

_As life goes by romantic dreams must die so I bid mine goodbye and never knew: so close was waiting, waiting here with you and now, forever, I know all that I wanted was to hold you so close... _

_So close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing that this one's not pretend … Now you're beside me and look how far we've come... So far, we are, so close... _

_How could I face the faceless days if I should lose you now? _

_We're so close to reaching that famous happy ending. And almost believing this one's not pretend _

_Let's go on dreaming though we know we are... So close... So close and still so far..._


	8. The Death and Life of Hope

_AN: **UPDATE: **This chapter was previously "The Death and Life of Hope". Due to lengthiness of it, I've divided it into two chapters. No other changes have been made. Apologies if this confuses anyone or messes anything up. Just trying to make this more reader friendly. :D_

_I cannot believe that there are no transcripts out for this movie! Sheesh, people you've had how many weeks to get one out? Just kidding. Since there isn't one yet, I caved in a bought the novelization and visual guide and will be using those as primary sources, throwing out the script draft, which I disliked anyway. lol This also means that chapters may take longer in coming because I will be going back and fleshing out certain scenes in previous chapters. I'll let you know when I've done this in author's notes of new chapters._

_Also, I apologize for stinking at writing mushy parts. I can give you a vivid, brutal battle a la Mad Max, but romance, eh, not so much._

_The * denotes a quote by Anne Bronte_

_Mahalo for reading and reviewing. Reviews are always much appreciated._

**Chapter 6: The Death of Hope**

"_Everybody will die, but very few people want to be reminded of that fact." -The Austere Academy by Lemony Snicket_

All was quiet in the servants' wing of Salazen Grum. The few guards on patrol had grown weary of pacing up and down the corridors and were either asleep on chairs near the doors or collected in a recessed corners playing dice. Mallymkun peered around the corner of the wall she was pressed against and made a quick assessment of her surroundings, calculating the shortest route to the Hatter, who was chained in the Queen's dressing room. There were not too many good things about being as small as she was, but one of the few things that was, was that it made sneaking about an enemy castle unseen far easier than if she was, say Alice's current size.

_Alice_... Mallymkun's eyes narrowed at the thought of girl, but she brushed off the inconsequential name. If the girl was still in castle and not on her way to Marmoreal with the Vorpal Sword, then she was not the right Alice and Mallymkun would have been right all along.

_I cannot wait to tell Nivens, 'I told you so!'_ she thought triumphantly. Her small paw ran over the handle of her sword, prepped to draw it. Except that the hat pin was no longer there as it had been taken by the Knave when she was captured. Mallymkun had forgotten that fact. The Dormouse began to dart across the hallway when a loud whisper froze her in the middle of it.

"Mallymkun!"

_Who's there? _In the blink of an eye, her phantom sword was drawn and ready to strike. The little mouse turned to face the voice that called her and she found herself staring up at...

_Alice!_ The one person she did not want to meet.

"What are you still doing here?" Mallymkun demanded, the vexation pronounced in her voice. She did not care whether Alice was offended or not. "You should be halfway to the White Queen by now!"

Alice did not appreciate the mouse's tone which was always condescending and belittling when Mallymkun spoke to her. "I'm going to save Hatter."

The Dormouse's mouth fell open and, for a moment, Mallymkun could not gather her thoughts. Finally, her jaw snapped shut and glared at the nuisance of a girl. "You'll do no such thing!" She stamped her foot down furiously. "I'm going to save Hatter- that's my job."

Alice was indignant and frustrated. She needed and wanted an ally in Mallymkun and did not understand what it was that the mouse held against her. Was she being so nasty simply because she wasn't The Alice? "I don't believe that the job was assigned to anyone," she sniffed.

"Yes, it was," Mallymkun insisted, pointing her arm at Alice as though she held her hat pin sword. "The White Queen herself gave me the job on the Horunvendush Day. It is my duty alone to protect him. I don't need you."

It was not the first time that Alice wondered what dreadful fever had induced such a bizarre dream. "You will need help to rescue our friend," she insisted, trying to find a common ground with the little creature.

"I will not." Mallymkun eyed her suspiciously, studying her features sharply. "Why are you so worried about Hatter?" Her head cocked to the side, curious as to the response.

Alice didn't not understand precisely what she was being asked and could not give the correct answer."Why should I not be? He's in trouble."

"Not at the moment he's not. But you've set yourself up as the Queen's new pet. He will be in grave danger if the Queen finds her pet lurking about him. You will make him lose his head!" Mallymkun's stare turned accusatory.

"I will not!" Alice protested indignantly. "Besides I did not choose to be the Queen's pet. It was a consequence of the Upelkuchen cake that I grew so much. What else was I suppose to do?"

"If you were the real Alice," Mallymkun finally voiced to Alice what she had said already to McTwisp. "You would know how much to eat and how much to drink, but you do not therefore you are not!"

"That does not make sense!"

"Not to you," the mouse said haughtily, tipping her nose up into the air. "Now I'll ask you again- why are you so set on saving Hatter? He does not need you. He has his friends. You do not know him enough to be true friends, I might add. If I need help from anyone I will call on his true friends. Of which you are not." Mallymkun hoped that by repeating herself the meaning of her words would filter through the girl's denseness. "There is more to it, Not Alice. I know it and you know it. Now why?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you!" Alice cried, her cheeks growing hot. The blush only confirmed to Mallymkun all that she need to know.

_I told you so! I told you this girl would be trouble, Nivens!_ _I told you! _In her mind, Mallymkun was dancing around the White Rabbit as she sang this to him. Then a dark thought occurred to the Dormouse now that she knew Alice's feelings.

_Where's my sword!!??_

"Do not even dare think about it!" Mallymkun shrieked and advanced on Alice threateningly. She may not have had her hat pin sword any longer, but she still had a mouse's gnawing teeth. "Tarrant and Mirana belong together. Do not interfere where you do not belong, Not Alice. The Knave of Hearts was the last person who interfered between them and I took his eye for it! Mark my words, I will do the same to you!"

Alice did not know what to say to that. She was very glad at the moment that Mallymkun had been stripped of her weapon when she was captured, for judging by the look on the mouse's face she was very serious, very willing, practically begging Alice to give her cause to carry out her threat. But the accusation brought up in Alice the intense desire to deny whatever it was that she was being accused of committing. But what precisely was she being charged with? Oh, right, Mallymkun was insinuating that her desire to rescue Hatter extended beyond that of friendly or sisterly concern. Alice, who did not care for others to imply how she felt or should feel, any more than she cared for being told who she was or what she should do, had the mind to tell off the impetuous, nosy little mouse; to tell her that she was not so knowledgeable, that she was wrong.

Mallymkun was wrong. Simple as that.

She was wrong.

She was absolutely Rong.

Rote...

Rite...

Right.

Alice's eyes widened as, for the briefest of moments, a flash of understanding lit her eyes. The flash was not missed by Mallymkun, who continued to brandish the sword that was not there.

"I am going to save Hatter." Alice tried to keep her tone level, but defiance crept in. She would **not** be told what to do or how to feel or who she was by any of these dream creatures.

Mallymkun did not back down. "No. I. Am. Going. To. Save. Hatter."

It was only the approach of a Red Guard that broke the stare down.

* * *

_Tarrant stood anxiously outside the cumbersome doors to the throne room, repeatedly buttoning and unbuttoning the last clasp of his waistcoat in a nervous fashion. Some of the courtiers and other assorted servants had gathered behind him, chirruping that he was about to be discharged and they all hoped to witness the dumping. The word Princess was snidely slipped into the gossip every so often, but he could not focus on that. All he could think about was how every domestic that was summoned by the king and entered the throne room, subsequently exited Marmoreal promptly and permanently._

_The door suddenly opened nearly hitting Tarrant, who misjudged his distance from the door. With a disdainful glance, the footman who had opened it motioned for him to enter. Inside, the monarch was reclined on throne in a casual way indicating that he was not angry or in a foul mood and Tarrant tried to take consolation in the king's posture. _King Abban is a kind man, noble, just, reasonable..._ Tarrant ticked off the King's character traits in his mind hoping to calm his nerves. It didn't work. _

"_Sire?" Tarrant immediately dropped into a low bow before the king, missing the familiar face that sat next to him._

"_Ah, Tarrant, thank you for coming." Abban sounded pleasant as he motioned for the hatter to stand. The king was never one for the pomp and circumstance of court, particularly if it involved a private matter between trusted associates._

_Once he was upright again, Tarrant noticed, for the first time, that Mirana was in the room, sitting by her father's side with one hand on the monarch's arm and a secretive smile dancing on her cherry lips. The smile turned into a slight smirk at his bewildered look and she winked at him. He could not hide his surprise. What was she up to this time?_

_  
"Mirana, dear, will excuse us, while I speak to Mr. Hightopp?" Abban always spoke to Mirana and about her in the most tender of ways. His pride in her was always abundantly evident. He patted her hand affectionately in dismissal. Mirana obliged her father with a kiss on the cheek. As she swept pass Tarrant with a glorious floating gait, she held her right hand out a bit from her skirts and allowed her fingertips to graze his in a reassuring manner._

_Abban rose from his seat, setting aside the book in his lap. He held his arm out to Tarrant, indicating that he wished for the Hatter to come closer. "Will you take a walk with me, Tarrant?" _

"_Of course, Sire."_

_They walked in silence for awhile as the king led the way into the topiary gardens. Tarrant couldn't help but compare the monarch to his wife. The very fact that the king would use his name rather than his job title to address him spoke volumes of the differences between husband and wife. His manner was always contemplative and diplomatic where as the queen, who was once very similar to her husband in disposition, seemed to suffer from ever changing moods, often wild at times. The term to explain this behavior pendulum was one he was quite familiar with, but one which would not pass through even the loosest of courtiers' lips: mad._

"_Mirana is looking well these day." Abban's voice broke through the Hatter's thoughts._

"_She always looks well, Majesty," he said with careful deference. He clasped his hands behind his back and kept his eyes down._

"_Yes, I suppose that's true," They entered the courtyard of the gardens. The sun shone down in brilliant narrow beams. Dragonflies and rocking horseflies darted in out of the rays in their graceful, darting dance, "But color has returned to her complexion again. Thank you."_

"_For what, Sire?" Thank you seemed like a strange riddle of which one forgot the primary part. "I haven't done anything."_

_Abban stopped admiring the beauty of the Gardens for a moment, to cast a glance at Tarrant. He smiled in a fatherly way. "You have broken her out of her gloomy state. I appreciate that you have always been such a good friend to my daughter." A pause came as the monarch inhaled a breath of sweet spring air. His expression became tainted by seriousness. "Mirana will need a good friend for the future that she is destined for."_

_Tarrant was nervous again; afraid of the direction in which the conversation could be headed. "With all due respect, sire, that sounds ominous."_

"_I suppose it does." The corner of the older man's mouth jerked in half-smile. "Perhaps I just worry too much over my youngest and what will become of her when I am gone."_

"_I sincerely doubt that such a worry will come to pass for a very long time."_

"_Not too long though, I do not wish to live forever." Abban noticed the change in Tarrant's mood and became aware of his concern. "Let's change the subject though; this is all rather depressing train of thought."_

"_Oh, thank you, Sire," he blurted out. "I was afraid you were going to ask me to hat you for your funeral."_

_Abban laughed, clapping a hand on Tarrant's shoulder. "My daughter has oft accused me of such things. Apparently, I come off as far more serious that I intend to be." The name of the daughter he referred to did not need to be spoken. The king always meant Mirana; he had little to do with the elder daughter who wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. _

_The men continued their walk, until they reached the far side of the courtyard where an achromatic marble table with pawns for legs and a chessboard top was set for tea. Tarrant's nervousness increased as a footman held a chair for him. Having tea with the king without knowing what was wanted of one felt a bit like the last meal before an execution, except in that instance one would know what was expected of them._

"_Tea, Tarrant?"_

"_No, thank you, Sire." He fidgeted uncomfortably, doubting the wisdom in declining the request, though the king did not seem bothered by it. "Forgive me, but it is not every day that one such as I , is summoned by the king, asked to take a walk, and to have tea with him. Since we are not near the execution Bailey, I suppose I should relax a bit." He gave a flaccid smile and a high-strung giggle escaped. He slapped a hand over his mouth._

_Abban shook his head apologetically. "It is you who should forgive me, my boy," the king replied, adding two lumps of sugar to his tea. "It is nothing so dire, I assure you. But let me ask: how do you like your job as the Queen's Hatter?"_

_Oh, no... his head may not have been in jeopardy, but it looked as though his job was. Tarrant gulped. _

"_I like it very much, sir," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I never thought I should be so happy making hats."_

"_I admit I am surprised by that as well. I seem to remember that your hat making skills were severely lacking when you were a boy. What was it that you wanted to do instead? Be a knight?"_

_Tarrant ducked his head embarrassed both by his still burning desire to be a knight but also that the king should remember it. However, Abban did not laugh at him. To be safe, he added meekly, "A pipe dream."_

_The king shook his head as though to say there was no such thing. "I have a proposal for you, Tarrant; a promotion of sorts, if you should be inclined to take it. "_

_Tarrant sat up straighter and cocked his head a bit, very curious now. "Sire?"_

"_Mirana is quickly approaching approaching the time when she will be called upon to take over the kingdom." Slowly, he stirred his tea, clearly not inclined to drink it. His tone was low and hushed, as though confiding a secret to the young hatter. "To this point, she has been very sheltered from worldly matters, unlike her sister. I wanted to keep her safe; to prevent her from growing up too fast. Now I worry that that may have been a mistake on my part. She has very little knowledge of Underland outside of Marmoreal and... the Hightopps." The king smirked, amused by the flushed guilt that overtook Tarrant's expression. "Yes, I have known of your little excursions though the Tree of Doors for quite a few years now."_

"_Is that what it's called?" Tarrant asked, smiling weakly, attempting to deflect criticism with humor. "We thought it was called the Doorway Tree!"_

"_Do not worry," Abban whispered conspiratorially. "The Queen is unaware of this still." He continued, his demeanor becoming serious once more. "When it is Mirana's time to rule, she will need an intimate knowledge of Underland and its inhabitants if she is to govern wisely and justly. For that she will need to be exposed to the world outside of Marmoreal."_

_Tarrant, unaware that he had slipped a napkin from the table and was twisting it into a small hat, frowned slightly. "How do I fit into that, Sire?"_

_The king suddenly looked weary. "My wife and I have urgent business in other parts of the kingdom that we must attend to frequently. We will be coming and going at odd times and may be called away unexpectedly. Mirana's regent training, however, must continue and she cannot go out into the kingdom with the proper company. While the knights may protect her well, they will not be able to go everywhere that she will need to go. Other kingdoms will not take so kindly to the future White Queen bringing an army into their Great Halls. She will need a chaperon to attend these functions with her, to guide her, and watch over her. And her chaperon must be someone to whom my daughter will listen. As I'm sure you know well, Mirana can be rather headstrong when she chooses to be with the propensity to conveniently lose whoever it is that is charged with her care, something I do believe you've aided her in from time to time." Abban gave him a significant look as Tarrant ducked his head once more. "I do believe that she will more manageable with you and will spend more time learning and less time diverting. Are you interested in the position?"_

_Given how much the king had revealed he knew about their time, Tarrant wondered how deeply that knowledge went. Still, he would give anything to be at Mirana's side constantly. "Yes, Sire."_

"_This will not allow you time for hatting, I'm afraid." The monarch finally sipped the sugary cold tea he had stirred for so long. "There will have to be a new Hatter to the queen if you accept."_

"_No hats?" The young hatter felt more torn than he expected he would._

"_Except for Mirana. She is the only one for whom you might have time to hat." A fond smile slipped across his weathered visage as he thought of his daughter. " And I would very much appreciate it if you could get her cover her head once in a while."_

"_I would be honored to accept this position. I will not fail you or her."_

"_She is my most treasured possession and I trust you fully with her. I will admit that my wife is not fond of this arrangement, but you will have no issue with her. She can say no to Mirana no more than I." Abban saw Tarrant's eyes light up at the knowledge that this was Mirana's idea. He dipped the silver spoon back into the tea. For moment, he doubted the wisdom in this provision, feeling as though his wife might have been right about Tarrant's feelings for Mirana. Eventually, the queen had warmed up to the notion, feeling confident that Tarrant was a safe choice because, as she put it, no one could fall in love with him. But it was just that possibility that worried him; he knew their daughter better than she did. Knowing what heartache such impossible things wrought from personal experience in the days before he married Miriam of Marmoreal, Abban did not wish for either of them to suffer through the same._

"_Tarrant?" He held the Hatter's giddy gaze with a paternal, but stern look. "I know that you are a man of character who has my daughter's best interests at heart, but take this advice from someone with many years of experience more than you: *Keep guard over your eyes and ears as the inlets of your heart, and over your lips as the outlet, lest they betray you in a moment of unwariness."_

_Tarrant nodded, though not quite understanding the advice, but he did not allow the king to see his confusion for fear he should think him less intelligent and think regret his decision to make him Mirana's chaperon. Later, after finishing tea with the king and entertaining him riddles, Tarrant returned to his workroom feeling a bit dazed and unsure of what to exactly to think of his new position. It all seemed so positively impossible. As soon as he closed the door and pair of thin, fair arms flung themselves about his neck from behind. For the second time that day, he had failed to notice her presence and worried what was becoming of his mind._

_Mirana was all giggles and grins, dancing about the tables, hatstands, and bolts of fabric as though clouds were beneath her feet, lifting every movement. "Do you mind terribly not being Mother's Hatter anymore and only being mine?" she asked him, coming to rest near where he sat._

"_Not at all." Nothing had sunk in yet and he grinned nonsensically at everything and nothing._

"_Good," she smiled, spreading her skirts out around her so that they completely covered his knees. "I have been wanting you all to myself for a very long time."_

_Tarrant, trying very hard not to read anything into her comment, traced the path of lace that sat on his lap. Mallymkun, whom he had not noticed in the room either, jumped from the folds of Mirana's skirt to his shoulder, begging him to make at least one hat for her, a pair of breeches, and a sword for her own promotion as guardian and protector of the Guardian of the Princess and his charge. The only response Tarrant could give either of them was peals of uncontrollable laughter._

* * *

Everything came to a grinding, horrific stop the instant she touched him; Underland, Time, who was no longer his friend, movement, his breath, his thoughts. He blinked at her several times, not quite able to process why she was still holding his face and smiling in that strange way at. him The air of the room became unbearably hot and suffocating. His vision blurred in and out of focus. In focus, he saw Alice. Out of focus, he saw Mirana quite clearly. In the moment before he passed out from lack of air or perhaps something else, his thoughts began to churn again, bringing him back to consciousness. Sort of. _Too tall or too small,_ the thought drifted across his mind again as another intersected it. _Too tall, too small, too small, too tall. Mirana was never too small or too tall, she was always just right. Is she still?_

He blinked again as Alice's hands fell away from his face. From somewhere, she produced his treasured top hat. The care she took with his hat touched him deeply. Once upon time, there had been another like Alice who had taken such care with his hat; she had even given him the rose sash that adorned the top hat. _What was her name again? M....?_ He studied Alice curiously for a long while before walking around her to his work area. The heavy shackle that weighed on his ankle scraped the floor behind him.

"A lily for your thoughts?"

Hatter's head jerked up quickly, his eyes wide in surprise. "What did you say?"

"I said, 'a thimble for your thoughts'" Alice held out a thimble that had fallen on the floor to him, wondering what she had said to make him react so bedazed.

His heart fell a bit as the words that were spoken were not the same as the ones spoken so long ago. Absentmindedly, he picked up a hat and regarded it all angles though he wasn't truly seeing what was in front of him. "Hmmm? Oh, I was contemplating things that began with M."

The smallest frown brushed Alice's countenance. She tried very hard to focus on the task he had asked her to accomplish, but couldn't help but wonder if he ever contemplated any other letters. "Things like Mirana?" she asked innocently. Though she was loathe to admit it, Alice was terribly curious about this Mirana, who she was, and what her connection to him was.

His head jerked up again, eyes ablaze in yellow as though she had drawn a sword on Mirana rather than merely spoken her name. His reaction caused him to grimace. He did not wish to the discuss the Mirana Matter at all, even though he knew this was not fair to Alice when he was the one to ask her to find her. There had been a time when he spoke of Mirana often and finding her himself, back before the Red Queen banned the use of the White Queen's name, before the name Mirana would cost one their head. It was during that time that he was intensely ridiculed for telling his story. Even Thackery used to call him "the mad man who fancied himself married to the Queen", a slight to him even though Thackery often said the same to the tea pots and spoons. Perhaps that was why he did not wish to discuss the matter with Alice or anyone, save Mallymkun, who was witness to the truth of what he told. He did not want to be mocked again; life was bleak enough. He was even growing wary of discussing the issue with Mirana herself for fear that too much Time had passed between them. Time was holding a grudge against him and perhaps Its intent was to hold them apart until Time Itself ran out.

"Maybe," he finally exhaled.

No matter how much Alice might have wanted to break into his world, to get to know the man behind the madness, she could not; clearly he was not ready nor willing to allow her passage. But she simply could not stand not knowing any longer and so asked in the gentlest possible way, "Why is it so important to find her?"

"Because," he said as though this should have told her all that she need to know.

"Because why?"

"Because muted music mustn't make moody musicians marvel madly."

"Tarrant!" she spoke firmly, mistaking the strange words for the beginnings of a rant.

He glanced at her sharply and frowned at her in reprimand for raising her voice. "You needn't yell, Alice. I'm standing right next to you."

Alice bit her bottom lip slightly. His moods were in such constant flux, the swings sometime grand and sometimes subtle, that she found it difficult to distinguish at times between madness and normalcy. "You asked me to help you find her, yet you have told me nothing but her name. I can't find someone I haven't seen or haven't heard described. What does she look like?"

His eyes softened to a lush green and a fond smiled dusted his amethyst lips. "Beauty- all that is good and kind and pure in the world."

Alice frowned. "No, I mean, what color is her hair, her eyes? Is she tall or small?"

His quixotic smile widened. "She is just the right size."

Alice winced, but continued, "What color is her hair?"

He shrugged, looking as though he might fall over at any moment. She was losing him again.

"Is she a prisoner of the Red Queen?"

"Yes."

"Is she here in Salazen Grum?"

"No."

"Do you know where she is?"

"Yes."

"Where is she?"

"Marmoreal."

Alice couldn't hide her surprise. She didn't know why he needed her help if he knew where Mirana was this whole time. "She's with the White Queen?"

"Yes."

"Well, then," Alice sat back, putting her hands on her knees, a bit relieved that she wouldn't have to go traipsing about Underland with the Red Army on her trail looking for someone she admittedly was beginning to think was a delusion. "She will be easy to find. We'll get you out of here and the others, find the sword, and the go to the White Queen and ask for her." Hatter's expression had not changed. In fact, he didn't seem to have heard anything she said, but she plowed on anyway. "Hatter, is she your sister?"

He looked directly at her now; closer but still distant. "The White Queen is not my sister."

"No," Alice shook her head, placing her hand on his arm. "I meant Mirana."

"The White Queen is not my sister," Hatter gave her a quizzical squint, before setting back to work on the Red Queen's hats.

Alice let out an exasperated sigh and gave up. She could not make sense of the riddles he seemed to be speaking in.

Outside the door to the dressing room, Mallymkun, still intent on saving her friend, listened and watched, seething at Alice's interfering and her perceived stupidity.

"He just told you all that you need to know, Not Alice," Mallymkun hissed under her breath. "She's at Marmoreal, the White Queen is not his sister- what's so difficult to understand?" The little Dormouse was suddenly distracted by Tarrant's pin cushion full of lovely pins right in front of Alice, all of which would make a perfect weapon with which to take eyes out. If only she could grab one without the girl seeing. But her plan was foiled by the ear-splitting shriek of the bloody Red Queen:

"**Hat Man! Where are my hats? I am _not_ a patient monarch!"**

* * *

Delight. Pure, unadulterated delight. It was something she had not experienced in a very, very long time. Iracebeth licked her lips in anticipation of the event that would soon unfold. Not the Frabjous Day, but rather the execution of one Tarrant Hightopp. His job as her hatter was short lived for he clearly valued Alice over his own head by aiding her in the theft of the Vorpal Sword and her escape. The only thing that would have made her delight complete would be to have Alice and Mirana there to be decapitated along with that despicable hatter who had never learned his place in the world: the bottom of Gummer Slough with the rest of Underland's undesirables.

The mirth in her eyes dimmed a just bit. If only she had her disgusting little sister and Alice; Alice who had been right under her nose, masquerading as her pet, her friend, and then throwing herself at the only person she did not despise: her dear Stayne. Jealousy flared in Iracebeth's hard heart. _It isn't fair! _She groused. Of course, Alice would try to steal her Stayne from her. Iracebeth was willing to bet that Alice would not try to lay claim to Mirana's beloved Hatter. But then, really, who is their right mind would? No, even if the Hatter was attractive, Alice would not do anything about because to do so would hurt Mirana and Alice would rendered incapable of such an act as she would be possessed by Mirana's enchantment, just like everyone and everything else was.

_Now, if both Alice and Mirana were to be beheaded with the Hatter, who would go first? Alice?_

No, Iracebeth decided, it really didn't matter whether Alice went first or last just so long as she went. The other two... now that was an entirely another matter. If Mirana was present, would she take the Hatter's head first or her sisters? Hmmm... although having Mirana's ugly little head severed from her body first would be indescribably wonderful as her hatter watched; it would not be nearly as delicious as the sheer agony it would cause her sister to watch while her precious playmate went first. _Yes_, a grin twisted her heart lips into a gross distortion of the universal symbol of love, _that would be much better, far more entertaining to watch Mirana's soul die before her body did. _

Yet Mirana was not there and would not die with her hatter. Iracebeth had decided not to send for her sister even though she easily could have. However, with Alice loose in Underland with the Vorpal Sword, she needed her army to concentrate its efforts on finding her before Alice found Iracebeth's darling pet, her Jabberwocky, and killed it. The monster of a girl! Otherwise, she would have surely sent the Army to Marmoreal to wipe out the remnants of the white army and bring Mirana in. Though her dream wouldn't quite be fulfilled in the way she had always envision, she could still delight in sending her sister a little "gift" after the Hatter's execution.

"What causes my Queen to smile so?" The silken tones of Ilosovic Stayne caressed her ears. Iracebeth lifted an already impossibly high eyebrow even higher and reached out for his hand. She did not notice the reluctance in his hold on her.

"I'm thinking of how perfectly wonderful it will be to personally deliver the Hatter's head to my sister and watch her virtuous white gown turn red with the blood of her beloved."

It was not often that Stayne smiled a true smile in the presence of the Red Queen, but this once he did. Nothing would make him happier than to be rid of the foul man and take back what the Hatter had stolen from him so many years before. "I should very much like to see that."

"You will, my love."Iracebeth's eyes darkened several shades. "You will."

* * *

"_Oftentimes, when people are miserable, they will want to make other people miserable, too. But it never helps."- The Wide Window by Lemon Snicket_


	9. The Revival of Hope

_AN: Something struck me after uploading "The Death and Life of Hope"; it was too long. I don't think many people are like me and like reading 10,000 + words entries. I've take that chapter and divided it up into two chapters to make it easier to read. If you read the lengthy version, then you've read the very latest postings; nothing has been added or deleted so there's no reason to read again unless you just want to._

_Feedback on chapter length you prefer would be delightful. Poll is up on the profile. Mahalo nui loa. :D Reviews are always much appreciated. Helps me know I'm headed in a reasonable direction. lol_

**Chapter 7: The Revival of Hope**

"_Sometimes even in the most unfortunate of lives there will occur a moment or two of good fortune."- The Reptile Room by Lemony Snicket_

Light in the dungeon was becoming even more scarce than before. The few lit torches were dying out, not to be re-lit, much like the prisoners held there. Well, he hadn't lasted long as the Red Queen's hatter, though it was actually a bit longer than he expected. His thoughts hearkened back to a once upon a time when Mirana mused that she must have been adopted. It was either that or something had gone terribly wrong during Iracebeth's birth. As funny as the thought was, he found nothing to laugh or even smile about. He had oft been accused of being overly optimistic about everything, but such was not the case now. Truth be told, he was finding hope a very hard thing to grasp as of late, as though Time were slowly pulling it from his grip. Even with Alice on her way to Marmoreal with the Vorpal Sword, the promise of a brighter day still was still slipping pass him. It a short Time's breadth, he and Mallymkun would face their execution, neither having a chance to see their Mirana's face one final time.

_Poor Mally_, Tarrant sighed with deep penitence. Regrets were all he had any more, it seemed. Ten long years of them, one piled atop another with guilt and rage thrown onto the heap. How useless he had proven himself to be; useless to stop the crown and Vorpal Sword from being stolen, useless to protect his family, useless to keep hold of Mirana and hide her away from her sister. And now he useless to stop Mallymkun's execution, never mind his own. What a disappointment he surly turned out to be to Mirana!

_Mirana..._

Somewhere, out of the darkness beyond his cell, came small muffled sobs. Tarrant sat up bit, ignoring the pain that shot through his body at the movement. If he wasn't completely out of his mind, the cries were coming from Mallymkun's bird cage prison.

"Mally?" he asked, dragging himself as close to the bar door as the heavy shackles would allow.

The sobs stopped the instant that he spoke. "What?" was the sharp, embarrassed reply.

"I've just never heard you cry before," he said, feeling very much like crying himself.

"I wasn't crying."

A morose smile was faint upon his lips; Mallymkun was never one to admit association with emotions she considered to be "girly". "I think that crying is a rather appropriate response to the current state of affairs."

"You're not crying." Her voice had the undeniable rasp of someone who had most definitely been crying.

"Only because its too dark."

The Dormouse frowned. "What does it matter whether its too dark or not?"

"What I mean is, you can't see if I'm crying or not because it's too dark."

"Oh," she sniffed, no longer caring if he knew she weeping. She knew he would not think less of her for it. The humiliation had endured by Alice stripping her of the Bandersnatch's eyes was the straw that broke her fortitude. The little mouse, full of regret and despair, buried her face in the frock of her chambermaid uniform. After a long while, she spoke, "I am so sorry, Tarrant."

"What for?"

"For failing you and Mirana."

"Oh." Tarrant wished Mallymkun was in the cell with him so that he could offer her more comfort than he could convey in his voice. "And how did you do that?"

She inhaled a shaky, sob-choked breath. "I couldn't fulfill my promise to her. I was suppose to watch over you until the Frabjous Day and then bring you back to her. And now-" The floodgate released itself and the rest of her words were lost in the torrent of tears.

"Somehow, I can't imagine Mirana holding this against you. I know I certainly don't."

"I hold it against me."

"I admire you, Mallymkun." Tarrant didn't think he had ever told her as much. He had a very bad habit of not saying what he truly thought of those closest to him. Leaving so much unsaid was a very good way for more regret to seep in. "So much bravery and courage in such a little body."

Though the Hatter's opinion meant everything in the world to her, his admiration was no consolation.

"I wish I could have gotten you to the Frabjous Day. I do believe there would be a New Order, if only we could have gotten back to her."

Pain pricked his heart, a pain far worse than any physical ailment he suffered from. The promised New Order. One more thing he had hoped for so long. "We aren't dead yet," he chirped, trying to remain upbeat for Mallymkun's sake. "There may still be a way."

"I'm not so sure about that." Hope had clearly escaped the Dormouse already.

_Creeee- eeeeek!_

The sharp grating sound of the elephantine apertures of the dungeon startled both Tarrant and Mallymkun into to silence. Tarrant slipped away from the his door and sat back in the center of his cell.

_Click, clack, clop. Click, clack, clop. _The sound of a single set of unfamiliar footsteps sent a chill of apprehension up the duo's spines. They shot worried looks through the dark in each other's direction.

The entire corridor suddenly was set on fire with the blaze from several new torches. Neither prisoner could see who was before them as the torchlight blinded them. When their eyes finally adjusted to the new lightening, the Hatter and the Dormouse gaped in horror at the figure before them.

It was the bloody Red Queen herself.

Mallymkun swore she heard Tarrant growl as he spat, "And what have we done to deserve the honor of having the false Queen of Underland weather the mire and muck of the cellars to visit us."

"You always did talk too much, Hatter." The Queen's voice was calm and even. Too calm and even; too bland and emotionless. "I came to say goodbye, naturally."

"Naturally," Tarrant sneered. Mallymkun, hearing the strong Scots brogue slowly take over his speech, knew he was at a precarious point in his personality.

If Iracebeth knew this, she ignored it, opened his cell door, and stepped inside. Then with clear intent to tease him, she left the door wide open.

"I'm going to miss you in a way, mad man." She stared down her nose at him, and then, suddenly, was in his face. She pinched his jaw between her thumb and forefinger, pressing her nails into his skin. "Once you're gone there will be nothing left that I can hang over my little sister. Except perhaps guilt. She is easily manipulated by guilt, you know. That's how I've managed to control my wicked sister all these years. Goes back to that ridiculous vow she took. It will be easy enough to make her believe that your death and the mouse's are entirely her fault."

A serpentine smile enveloped her features when she saw the rapid color change of the Hatter's eyes. She held his glare for a long while. "Or rather, I think it will. She will grieve terribly for the mouse, I know that. But I'm not sure that your death will affect her quite as much as it once would have."

She watched him carefully for a flicker of breaking, but his glare remained steadfast, just as he remained silent.

"Can you speak in nothing but lies?" Mallymkun wished for nothing more than to claw the Queen's eyes out with the last of her breath.

Iracebeth's head jerked toward the birdcage. She shot a murderous look at the Dormouse. "I speak the truth, just as I always have." She turned back to Tarrant. "You were a fun distraction for a time, I suppose. But she hasn't had a use for you in a long time in... any capacity. I shouldn't expect her to have much less use for a hatter now. And that's really the only thing you're good at, being a hatter. No, Time has certainly changed my little sister; she's not quite as," she paused as though searching for the proper word. "White as she once was. I suspect she'll consider your death to be much like a lightening bugs; sad, but oh, well. "

"Jealousy's green is no more an attractive color on you than red," Tarrant hissed in mock deference. "I know Mirana better than you."

It was all that Iracebeth could do not to strangle him right then for his insubordination and his use of that accursed name. But she did not; she reigned in her emotions enough to reply with venomous calm, " Oh! Oh I see. You think- you really think that Mirana loved you?" She burst into unbridled laughter, yet held her grip on the Hatter's chin. When she stopped her shrieks, that serpentine smile had turned lethal. "She did not love you. She pitied you just like she pitied all the pathetic ugly creatures of Underland. My sister always had a bleeding heart. You were like a dog to her; following her around like Bayard followed Daddy around. All she had to do was snap those little fingers and you'd come running. Stupid oaf. She could never love someone like you; no one could." Roughly, she left go of his chin and stood away from him. "I gave Mirana a chance to come to your execution," she lied haughtily. "But she declined. She declined to come because she did not care."

He sat still where she left him; unchanged, unmoving, unspeaking. And it infuriated Iracebeth. She stamped her foot in rage. "Have you anything to say, jester?"

Slowly, Tarrant lifted his chin to meet her glare with vengeful yellows and a chilling, demented grin.  
"Downal wyth Bluddy Behg Hid," he purred contumaciously.

Though she did not understand what he said, she was enraged that he refused to react the way she wanted him to and she slapped him as hard as she could before leaving in a huff of red.

All was still in the dungeon again. Mallymkun stuck her head through the bars of her cage, craning to see Tarrant. His quietness disturbed her. Then a sound caught her ear, a soft murmuring sound, a whimper of sorts. Then she realized that he was crying.

"Tarrant? Tarrant are you alright?" she called disquieted. "You know she's lying. You know what she said isn't true. Mirana loved you. You know that!"

All was mum. Then he spoke, a quiver in his voice, "Yes, loved. Past tense. What if there is no present or future tense?"

"You can't believe that. Not truly."

"It is possible," he mused, sounding suddenly reasonable. "Many years have passed. So many years. It is quite possibly possible that there is possibly nothing left."

Mallymkun hung her head and defeat washed over her. "I suppose it is. If you believe it."

"I'm not sure what I believe anymore."

* * *

_The past month had been a blur of activity for the childhood friends. While Tarrant was growing accustomed to his new role, as well as the rest of court, Mirana's days were consumed with education: geography, economics, culinary arts, alchemy, and so on, in addition to the tri-weekly tours of Underland. Tarrant did his best to make the tour interesting for her, but the more she was out amongst the people the more her renown grew. The more her renown grew, the more she was adored. The more she was adored the harder it was for him take her running through the countryside and alleviate some of the burden from her shoulders without being caught._

_Then day came, however, when Mirana could stand the pressure no longer and begged Tarrant to take her away from the mundane duties of a princess. That was an easy enough request to acquiesce to as the King and Queen were away from the Kingdom so often. As for avoiding the prying eyes of the courtiers, Tarrant finally remembered to show her the secrets of Marmoreal and how he was able to escape her room the night of the Grand Ball when Clara had intruded upon them; hidden passageways and trapdoors filled Marmoreal. Mirana was delighted to learn this. They spent many days escaping Marmoreal this way or simply disappearing to explore for a time when the princess needed a break from her studies._

_On their way to another escapade, they slipped into the wall near the kitchen and head through the couloir toward the outer wall. Tarrant held Mirana's hand to guide her in the ingresses that were unfamiliar to her. He noticed a short ways into their trip that her enthusiasm had waned and she began to lag behind. _

"_Are you all right?" he asked with concern. He stopped and turned to face her._

"_I am tired, Tarrant," she sighed, lifting a trembling hand to her forehead. "I do not think I want to leave Marmoreal today. I just want to be away from everyone."_

"_We don't have to leave," he reassured her. Tarrant began to walk again. "Let's go just a short ways further."_

_He stopped when the passage ended abruptly. Pushing a small lever, the hidden corridor was filled with light. They found themselves standing in an unusual mural chamber. The chamber had a small arched glass window overlooking the Gardens. Mirana could not place what part of the Gardens they were facing as she could not remember ever seeing such a window from the outside._

"_Where are we?" she asked, her energy began to return as curiosity took her mind off of her troubles._

"_The Snud-Queast side of the Gardens," he said with a smile._

"_But I don't recognize this window."_

"_That is why this mural chamber is known amongst the domestics as the Spy Tower."_

"_Really?" Her energy was fully back now as she regarded the room with wide eyes that took in every detail around her._

"_Yes, really. Take a seat." The seat he offered her was carved out of stones of the wall and sloped gradually up to the window. In order to see out of the window one would have to crawl up to it and lay on one's stomach as there was not enough room between the floor and the ceiling to sit up. The space up to the windows ledge narrowed but was wide enough for two people. Mirana wasted no time crawling up to the window. _

"_You can see everything from up here!" she exclaimed zestfully._

"_I suppose that's why they call it a spy tower," Tarrant commented, grinning at her fascination. He was quite pleased with himself for bringing such a smile to her face._

"_Tarrant, look at this!"_

_She was waving for him to join her, but he hesitated for a moment. Then carefully he squirmed his way up to where she was; the lack of distance between set his nerves on edge and plopped a peculiar feeling into the bottom of his stomach. What if they were caught? Did he lock the door? Could you lock a mural chamber? Then, for some odd reason, he began to feel very hot in spite of having enough room that they weren't squeezed together. Part of his lightheartedness might have been caused by Mirana leaning against his shoulder. She had also put her arm under his and was holding onto his hand. _

_  
"What are they doing?" She breathed as though speaking louder would disturb whatever was below them. She craned for a better view._

_Finally, he turned his gaze to where hers, trying to put her closeness out of his mind, and saw a couple below them, half-hidden in the shadows created by the castle walls. They both recognized the two people; the woman was one of her sister's ladies-in-waiting and the man was a cottar from Tugley Woods. Mirana was enthralled with the couple. She was being exposed to a great many things more than she had prior to the start of her regent studies,but romance was not one those things (one could hardly find any romance in the numerous suitor's balls she attended). She had never seen two people in love, not even her own parents and certainly not her sister, so she didn't know how a couple in love behaved. The man leaned over to kiss the woman who giggled lightly at his touch. Her eyes widened with shock and inquisitiveness she had never seen anyone kiss like that! Pecks on the cheek and hand, but never anything more. _

_At the change in her expression, Tarrant, who had not been paying attention to the scene below but rather the scene beside him, looked back down at the lovers, and his own expression changed to mirror hers._

_Oh, my...Oh, My...**OH, MY..!**_

_Tarrant untangled his arm from hers, reached around her shoulders, and clapped his hand over her eyes. "I don't think we should watch any further."_

_Mirana did not protest, she seemed a bit embarrassed by the exhibition as well. They slid down the incline to the stone seats, sitting opposite each other. Mirana curled her feet up underneath her in a contemplative manner. Her head was turned toward the window and her gaze was distant. The silence loomed between and he wished he could read her thoughts because he was afraid to ask what or, worse, who she thinking about. His own thoughts drifted back to the couple below, envying them. He wished so much to be able to brush back the stray lock of hair from her face like and-_

Stop it, Tarrant! Just stop it! You already decided that you would be content to be her confidant and friend, so stop thinking about anything more! It's impossible! _He grimaced to ward off any other emotion that might try to seep through and stared at the wall opposite the window._

"_Have you ever kissed someone like that?"_

_Her voice startled him and he blushed a fuchsia pink. It took him several moments for her question to sink in.  
_

"_No," he replied quietly, feeling very awkward._

_She turned to him with a dreamy look on her fair features. "What's it like to kiss someone, Tarrant? Is it wonderful?"_

_The blush deepened and his pulse quickened with embarrassment. "You're asking the wrong person, Princess."_

_She focused on him now, regarding at him quizzically. "You've never kissed anyone?" She seemed genuinely surprised by this revelation as though she had thought that he had kissed many girls before._

"_I am not exactly the most sought after man in the kingdom, Mirana," he said, wishing desperately to change the course of conversation._

_Her ear felt hot as she heard for the first time years him speak her name. _

"_In fact, I am among the least desirable."_

_Mirana found herself at a loss for words. Surely, he was being humorous. "I can't believe that." She didn't know whether to smile or to frown or to have no expression._

"_No one else sees me as you." His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him. "I know what they say about me when my back is turned because I know what they say to my face. I am not beautiful like you; no one will be waiting in line hoping that I will take their hand in marriage."_

_She could practically felt his humiliation and she wanted badly to alleviate it. "Oh, Tarrant-"_

_He waved a hand in dismissal; to stop her from saying anything further. "But that's all right, actually," he said, trying to convince himself that this was so as much as he was trying to convince her. "So long as I can serve in my lady's court as her hatter for the rest of her days then I will have all that I need in my life. I will be happy and it will not matter that I am not loved." He gave a small shrug at the end of this pronouncement as if to say that this was the way things are and will be. _

_Mirana blinked several times, struggling to find a voice for her thoughts. A grief for him caught in her chest making it impossible to breathe properly. _He doesn't know!_ She thought despondently. _He doesn't have a clue how much he meant to me! How utterly and completely lost I'd be without him. How my heart should break if I were to somehow lose him! _Had she not ever shown him this? Surely she had. Was she too subtle in her affections with him? Tears blurred his face and her head and hands shook involuntarily. She couldn't bare that he thought such a heinous things about himself or that he truly believed in what he said. _

_He couldn't look at her. He was afraid of her reaction; afraid that she would pity him and he did not want that. And he very worried as her father's advice suddenly made sense to him now. It was essentially: no matter how you feel keep your mouth shut. At the very least, he had somehow managed not to speak of his specific feelings towards her._

_The little princess's mind reeled from a dizzying flurry of emotion that consumed her, then suddenly the whirlwind stopped and her thoughts cleared. Without a word, she slid over to him and lifted a hand to his cheek, wiping away the tears he had failed to prevent from falling. He still refused look at her. Her pulse raced as she lifted her chin so that she could lay a dulcet kiss on the same cheek her hand was upon. The gesture clearly caught him unaware and in his shock, he turned his head abruptly. Thoughts of the couple below them evaporated as their lips met in the sweetness of a friendship that had suddenly bloomed after years of cultivation. Unlike the couple below, their kiss, though an ardent fire, remained one of innocence such as the kisses that are only found in the stories that parents tell their children before bed._

_They parted after a beautifully long time, though Time seemed to have paused to wait on them to finish, kissing each others cheeks and fingertips. They never thought to look at the window again as they rose from their seats without a word. And though there were many secrets and dreams between them and many yet to come, they never spoke of the mural chamber nor visited it again._

* * *

"_Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like."- The Slippery Slope_


	10. The Endless Journey Dead Ends

_AN: I sincerely hope that last chapter didn't put anyone off. The lack of reviews was, admittedly, very worrisome. _

_Mahalo to all who are reading and reviewing. As with most authors, your reviews help me know if I'm headed in the right direction and I'd love to hear your thoughts/ _

_Lyrics to songs from Les Miserables by Alain Boublil (French lyrics) and Herbert Kretzmer (English lyrics)_

_Movie quotes from the novelization by T.T. Sutherland_

**Chapter 8: The Endless Journey Dead Ends Before Stopping Completely **

"_One day more! Another day, another destiny- this never-ending road to Calvary. These men who seem to know my crime will surely come a second time.... One more day before the storm! At the barricades of Freedom... When our ranks begin to form will you take your place with me?""- "One Day More" from Les Miserables_

Something very peculiar had happen to Time at some point after the Horunvendush Day. Mirana had not seen him in a great while and she often wondered what had become of him. He no longer wound the clocks or moved the days and years. It was quite surreal to watch Underland change bit by bit, to die bit by bit. One could not accurately say day by day or year by year, though most everyone did, because Time had not passed by in so long. It made the White Queen feverish to contemplate such strangeness; ten years should have gone by since the Horunvendush Day, but they had not, for Time had stopped completely. Rumors accused one Mad Hatter of killing Time, but Mirana knew that to be quite impossible; Tarrant was not capable of such an act. However, offending Time to the point which Time simply refused to move or pretended to be dead, that Mirana could easily envision him doing.

Desperate for an escape from her courtiers in order to think thoughts other than blitheness and lightness, Mirana touched the rook that was carved into the stone wall at the beginning of the Hall of Mirrors. The full length mirror to her left fell back into the wall; the moment she stepped through, it closed again. She took with her into the hidden passageways Underland's most famed history book, _The Recapitulations of Muchness_ or _The History of The Alice_. Mirana wasn't quite sure why she had been so intently pouring over the book as Alice's past was not nearly as important as her future. Perhaps, it was as much as a distraction as wandering through the secret halls of Marmoreal. The wandering part, however, was a poor choice, she realized immediately, for every corridor, every turn, every exit, and entrance contained a memory of happiness past. The faster she moved, the faster the memories of those bygone days came at her until she felt would surely go madder if she did not escape soon. In the instant before her mind shattered, she burst through a doorway and found herself standing in the mural room she had not been in since she was sixteen. Unable to continue the facade of high-spirited whimsy, Mirana collapsed on the window slope with her face buried in her arms. She could not cry, however, it simply was impossible. For too long she had held it all; for too long the dam around her emotions had been high and strong without leaking. On the rare occasion, a few emotions bubbled over the top, but no one was ever around to see them spray over.

"With the Frabjous Day now at hand, what could possible bring a frown to my Queen's face?" The familiar, sonorous voice of Absolem startled Mirana and she sat up abruptly, embarrassed that he should see her with her guard down.

The Caterpillar was reclined leisurely on the ledge of the window that overlooked the gardens, contentedly puffing on a pipe rather than his customary hookah.

Mirana was badly shaken by his presence in this particular room and, try as she might, she could not fully restore her mask of calm. "I-I was merely feeling overwhelmed with happiness that the Frabjous Day is upon us."

The Caterpillar regarded her through the smoke of his pipe, with a skeptical eyes. "You know after all the sneaking around and deception you and Tarrant used to engage in," Each word was drawn out slowly between puffs. "I'm surprised that you are not a better liar."

Mirana blushed profusely knowing that it was useless to pretend. "You always see through everyone, Absolem."

He nodded slightly and closed his eyes. "Some are more transparent that others."

"Absolem?" The young Queen's voice held a slight tremor. Uncertainty and trepidation marred her fair face. "Absolem, are you sure that the Oraculum hadn't-?"

"Mirana, my response is the same as the last time you asked me and every time before that," Absolem opened one eye, starting down his blue nose at her with a look of annoyance. "The Oraculum has yet to produce the answer you seek. I doubt that it has changed any since the Knave found it."

Her head bowed and she clasped her hands in her skirts. "What should I do Absolem? Naught for usal, isn't it? Should I just accept the Charter as my parents wanted me to?" Mirana thought of the Charter, that blasted constitution that had always governed the royalty of Underland with it's rules and etiquette and expectations. It was as though the Charter was a menacing entity of its own that controlled the monarchs ruthlessly; none had ever had the fortitude to go against it.

"Stop pouting," Absolem reprimanded her impatiently, blowing a smoke ring in her face. "It's unbecoming to a Queen. Have you ever considered the strong possibility that your answer has not shown itself yet in order to preserve the Frabjous Day?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'll take that as a no." The Caterpillar nestled himself further in the corner. "I mean, you and Tarrant are both prone to irrational bouts of foolishness and impulsiveness; he even more so now. Mercifully, your madness had the opposite effect, annoying as all that ridiculous floating is perhaps but less rash."

He could tell by the look on her face she thought he was mocking her. So he continued in a gentler tone. "Think about it, Mirana, should the Oraculum have revealed the White King before the Frabjous Day, the odds are that the pair of you would have done something incredibly stupid to make it come to pass or to change it; something that could well make the Frabjous Day futile: like losing your heads."

Mirana considered this, not foolish enough to disregard one of the wisest creatures in Underland. "Do you believe there's a chance that after the Frabjous day there might be a change to the Oraculum?"

Absolem sighed and filled the space between with clouds of vapor. "I believe that all the mourning over the situation of two star-crossed lovers will do nothing to improve it. You have waited this long; you must wait a bit longer for Alice to arrive."

"How much longer is bit longer?"

"Very short now, I would imagine. Bayard, with help from the Bandersnatch, should have her just about here."

The Queen's head jerked up, her eyes wide with surprise. Though she did not feel any more hopeful, she did not feel as perturbed "Thank you, Absolem." Mirana tenderly lifted him in cupped hands to her lips.

"No, no stop that!" He squalled, blowing smoke in her face as she kissed him. "Save that nonsense for your hatter!"

* * *

A new day was dawning and with it came two executions to prepare for. Fear and murmurings of the Frabjous never arriving rippled through the slaves of the Red Queen. They did not know that Underland's Champion was safely within the perimeter of Marmoreal, very nearly to the White Queen. All they knew was that the White's Queen's closest confidants, the leaders of the Resistance, were about to be beheaded.

One of those leaders, Tarrant Hightopp, was, curiously enough, getting into the spirit of things as he went about straightening his clothes, brushing the dust off of them, and fixing his hair. Mallymkun had her head stuck through the bars of her cage, staring at the floor. Just as tears were about to rain down once more, a familiar shadow fell over her. She looked in time to see Chessur slip between the bars of the Hatter's cell.

"I've always admired that hat," the Cat purred, reclining against the stone wall. "Since you won't be needing it anymore, would you consider bequeathing it to me."

"How dare you!" Tarrant snapped, eyes blazing. He held the hat to his chest protectively. "It is a formal execution . I want to look my best, you know."

"It's a pity about all of this," Chessur inspected his nails. There was only a slight hint of irony in his voice. "I was looking forward to see you Futterwacken.""

"I was rather good at it, was I not?" Tarrant's smiled was distant. He ran a finger lovingly over the sild band about the crown of his hat.

"I really do love that hat. I would wear it to all the finest occasions."

Their eyes met. Chessur's grin widened until it looked as though it might break through his cheeks. Tarrant regarded him, quizzically through narrowed eyes. What was that Cat up to?

"Is the hat really that important to you, Chess?" he asked pointedly.

"Well... I do love it," Chessur drifted down to eye level with the Hatter. "But the regard of the White Queen is just a bit more important at the moment." Admiration filled his large feline for the briefest of moments. "Brother."

Tarrant followed to the barred egress as Chessur floated beyond him and lazily kicked about Mallymkun's cage.

"You've spoke to Mirana?" His eyes were as wide as Chessur had ever seen them and they sought him imploringly.

"Yes," Chessur told him. "She wanted me to prove my loyalty to the Cause and since I didn't have anything to do better I said I would."

"I thought you didn't get involved in politics," Mallymkun reminded him, snarkily. It wasn't fair that he was out there, free, fully capable of letting them out of their confinement, yet he did nothing,

"This isn't so much about politics," Chessur stopped his circling to look at her. "As it is about good and evil. Believe it or not, I've grown weary of evil."

"Chess," the Hatter's mind was clearly not on Chessur's political alliances. "You've spoken to Mirana. What did she say?"

"Not much," he said with a shrug. "She asked me to aid Mallymkun in bringing you back to Marmoreal. It would seem that the Queen anticipated such a predicament and thought Mally might, just this once, need a bit of help. And," he spun in a circle before the little mouse. "Here I am!" He bowed to the little mouse. When he rose, he stuck his face close to the bars in a conspiratorial grin. "Who would have thought we'd be in cahoots together again?"

Impulsively, Mallymkun grabbed the Cat's whiskers and kissed the his nose. Chessur reeled away from the cage, clapping his paws over nose as though she had bitten him. "We'll now" he harrumphed. "If your going to be like that about it, I might just change my mind!"

"Chessur," Tarrant's voice sounded as though it were cracking in pain. "Did Mirana say anything else?"

"Oh, right," Chessur winked at Tarrant as he slipped back into the Hatter's cell. "Mirana did have a message for you."

The Hatter licked his parched lips in eager, yet almost fearful, anticipation.

"Wait how did it go again? You two with your silly cryptic messages. Oh, yes: _A chuisle mo chroí."_

Chessur chuckled to himself at the dreamy look that glazed Tarrant's eyes. No doubt the message was one of mush. The Cat was very glad he did not know what it meant. With a twinkle in his eyes, he stalked around the Hatter's hat again. "Now about that hat..."

* * *

"_A lily for a lily." Ilosovic Stayne smiled in way that was greatly disturbing to the little princess as he offered her a flower. He grasped her small hand in his enormous one and pressed his lips to the back of her hand for longer than was appropriate. Her mother, who was beaming delightedly, did not notice. Her sister, who was frowning as the world had drowned, did notice. Timidly, Mirana accepted the black lily he offered. It was a sinister looking thing against all the whiteness around them. Such was a flower that her sister adored, not Mirana. She did not care that the flower was a rarity in his kingdom; she simply found it difficult to admire a plant that looked as though it wanted to eat ones hand. "I am looking forward to spending more time with you, Princess." He stared at her with that smirk until she squirmed uncomfortably._

_Iracebeth, on her monthly visit from Crims, glared daggers at Mirana as their mother stepped forward to coo over the Knight from the Black Kingdom. Mirana swallowed her disgust with gulp before anyone other than her sister could see it. Stayne was not the type of man Mirana wished to spend her life with. He was analytical and calculating with an appetite for power, wealth, and pretty young girls. A commander in her uncle's army at a very young age, Stayne was a military man set on conquest and dominion. He had no time or patience for whimsical or mundane things. His social interactions were lacking; he was not particularly good at conversation nor did he seem to care much for getting to know a person- he replied on his charm and wit to carry him social frivolities as he was far too driven to expend additional time developing communal graces. Though he was not Mirana's type, he was certainly Iracebeth's. Her elder sister was deeply enchanted with her chosen course of study- Dominion Over Living Things._

_Mirana wondered how much charm she would have to exert over her parents to get them to hand Stayne over to Iracebeth. He could be a Knight in the Heart Kingdom. She doubted Iracebeth's husband would even notice; he was far too happy to have recently had his kingdom expanded as Queen Miriam had inexplicably given the Red Kingdom of Crims to Iracebeth as an anniversary gift._

_Miriam's unexplainable behavior continued when she remarked to Stayne, "I am so looking forward to having you as a son-in-law, Ilosovic."_

_The little princess was startled back to reality by her mother's words. Her jaw fell open and, though it was dreadfully unbecoming, she could not close it. Stayne's serpentine smiled reached to his black eyes as he glanced back at her over his shoulder. "And I am looking forward to having Mirana as my wife."_

_The Knight and Queen marched ahead of the sisters, planning the engagement ceremony that was set for two months time. Iracebeth turned on Mirana as they followed. She looked as though she sincerely wished to murder her sister. _I hate you,_ she mouthed. _

_It wasn't until that moment that Mirana realized that it was Iracebeth who was in love with Stayne in spite of being married. But this engagement was, as Iracebeth saw it, a betrayal and it would forever define the sisters' relationship, setting them on opposites sides of the chess board as enemies. They had never been close. Iracebeth had always resented the fact that their parents had had another child, another daughter no less; a daughter whose very birth challenged Iracebeth's right to the throne of Underland. The Charter set forth with the Oraculum stated that once a second princess had been birthed, the eldest was no longer the inherent ruler of the White Kingdom, of Underland, the greater kingdom. The Crown would belong to the daughter who was the purest in heart and spirit and action. Poor distorted, unbearable Iracebeth, whom everyone feared and avoided, never stood a chance against the beautiful, enchanting Mirana, whom everyone loved and adored. Once when Mirana was first born, five year old Iracebeth had piled her infant sister's bassinet full of toys and blankets in hopes of suffocating her or smothering her. That was only one of a multitude of grievances that kept the sisters from having a normal relationship. As Mirana grew older, she grew less benevolent to Iracebeth, weary of turning the other cheek for her sister to slap, and she began to fight back in her own, quiet way. It didn't take much to get Iracebeth into a great deal trouble- a twist of her lips into a frown, the bat of a dark eyelash, the drip of a false tear. Mirana's manipulation over people who never would think ill of her nor good of Iracebeth made Iracebeth despise the little Chosen One even more._

"_You collusive little..!" Iracebeth was so livid that she could not finish her accusation. She advanced on Mirana menacingly. "**You** did this on purpose. **You** knew I wanted him- you knew! You don't love him. I see that look of disgust in your eyes when he's near you. You don't deserve him. All you care about is that idiotic mad man. You don't **deserve** Ilosovic and you don't **deserve** Mummy's crown!"_

_Mirana, if not for the years of torture suffered at the hands of her sister, might have been sympathetic towards Iracebeth or at the very least pitied her for being trapped in a loveless marriage. But she had become indifferent to her sister's feelings. She drew herself up to her full height and leveled her gaze with Iracebeth._

"_You're just jealous, Iracy," Mirana sniffed at her, with a haughty air. "Because when I asked for Tarrant to be my guardian mummy and daddy said yes right away. But when you asked for Stayne years ago to be yours, they said no. No matter how you begged and pleaded, they wouldn't consider it. For years and years you asked and they always said no. I asked only once and got what I wanted."_

_Iracebeth's ire turned her face a vivid crimson and fury began to shake her. "They had no reason to deny me my request! Ilosovic is a knight and would be a proper guardian; he fits the demands of the Charter, unlike that creature you have trailing you. It's because of you," her eyes went wide with understanding. She took a step toward her younger sister, pointing a trembling finger at her. "**You **did some sort of magic to make them say no. They had no reason not to grant me Stayne. It's a reasonable request- yours was not! You collusive little enchantress!"_

_The White Princess shrugged her narrow shoulders at Iracebeth's rage."Green is not an attractive color on you, Iracy," she told her with a supercilious glance._

"_I hate you." This time the words were spoke loudly, crisply, and truly._

_Mirana repressed a shudder, completely convinced that her sister was very sincere._

* * *

_After escaping from Iracebeth, Mirana went straight to her father's study, prepared to find a loophole out of her situation. His mood was very different from his usual self. Gone was the jovial good nature, replaced by a stern, serious manner. As she began to implore him to intervene on her behalf, his features hardened even further. But she was convinced that her father, who never said no to her, would not fail her now. It was only after her father confirmed her mother's announcement regarding Mirana's future and would not budge that the little princess broke down in a fit of tears._

"_Daddy! You can't let her do this to me!" _

_Abban repressed the urge to give into his darling daughter and frowned. "Now, Mirana, just calm down. Be reasonable."_

"_Why should I calm down?" she demanded through the tears. "This is not a calm matter! Iracebeth never has to calm down."_

"_This isn't about your sister!" It was the first time Mirana could ever recall her father speaking harshly to her. __Despite being hurt and slightly appalled with the way the conversation was going, Mirana was too stubborn, to use to getting her way, to back down. "No, it's about the rest of my life! Who I marry should be my choice, my decision. Mother has no right to choose for me!"_

"_You would not decide. You refused to. And your mother's choice is reasonable and-"_

"_Reasonable?" Mirana gaped at her father, who was clearly displeased with her rude interruption. "She wants to marry me to someone I cannot stand. How is that reasonable?"_

"_Stayne is reasonable choice. He is strong and decisive. He will be able to help you rule Underland."_

_She shook her head as though shaking it hard enough would make everything go away. "He is power hungry and violent! That will make a wonderful combination," the words fell out steeped in sarcasm. "A Queen who has taken the Vow never to harm a living creature and a tyrannical, domineering king. Yes, Underland will thrive under those conditions."_

"_Mirana!" Abban was quickly losing patience with her, frustrated with her selfish behavior and frustrated with his failure to better prepare her for the real world. "Sometimes it becomes necessary to battle. It is because of your choice to go into the Healing Arts that makes Stayne the perfect choice. You will compliment each other."_

"_I will hate him!" She could not prevent the tears from spilling over again as the image of a young man in an unfinished top hat sprang up before her. "Whatever happened to choosing a king based on the size of his heart and the strength of his character?"_

_The King let out a nearly defeated sigh."Do you not think I've considered that? Mirana, he is the wisest choice for the kingdom. Often we must sacrifice ourselves for the greater good." He took hold of her shoulders and forced her to look him in the eyes. "You will marry Stayne. In two months time there will be a formal engagement ceremony where he will ask you to marry him in front of the courts of all the kingdoms. You will accepted his proposal."_

_If Iracebeth's great faults were that she was insufferable and cruel, then Mirana's great faults were that she was selfish and capricious. She never believed that she would be made to marry someone she did not love. She believed that when she made her choice, no matter how against the Charter and Oraculum her decision, he would be as loved and accepted as she. She had never had reason to believe otherwise. When she began to understand that this time she would not get her way, Mirana fled her father's study, her sight blurred by tears. She did stop nor acknowledge anyone who called to her until she reached the sanctity of her friend's workroom._

* * *

"_But there are dreams that cannot be and there are storms we cannot weather. I had a dream my life would be so different from this hell I'm living. So different now from what it seemed/ Now life has killed the dream I dreamed..."- I Dreamed A Dream from Les Miserables_

* * *

If you've read this story, would you mind taking a moment to review? Mahalo. :)


	11. The White Queen and Her Champion

_AN: Well, the drop off in reviews is discouraging to say the least. Hope the story hasn't gone **that** downhill. I owe a debt of gratitude to Karribean for her support and enthusiasm. Thank you, my friend!_

_If you are reading and find this remotely interesting, have insight as to why one might have lost interest, or suggestions, please drop a review. I'd really appreciate it. If only a word to let me know you are still reading. Mahalo. :D _

_Lyrics to songs from Les Miserables by Alain Boublil (French lyrics) and Herbert Kretzmer (English lyrics)_

_Movie quotes from the novelization by T.T. Sutherland_

**Chapter 9: The White Queen and Her Champion**

"_The time is near, so near it's stirring the blood in their veins! And yet beware don't let the wine go to your brains! For the army we fight is a dangerous foe with the men and the arms that we never can match... We need a sign to rally the people, to call them to arms, to bring them in line!" -Red and Black from Les Miserables_

In time, Mirana could avoid her courtiers no longer and, upon saying fairfarren to Absolem, the Queen went to the join her court. They greeted her with coos and compliments, airy empty words that evaporated the instant they were spoken. Though infuriating at times, Mirana could bear them no ill will for their denial of what went on outside the walls of Marmoreal. They were coping in the only they knew how; all of Underland's was, though defense mechanisms were as different as the inhabitants themselves. Fate, mercifully, took her away almost as soon as she had joined them with news that Alice was no longer on her way to them, but was actually in Marmoreal. Mirana retreated to the throne room, to wait for Underland's champion without the slight idea as to how she was going to receive Alice.

The pristine marble doors of the throne room opened to reveal a young woman, a very tall young woman, who wore a determined expression on her face, but Mirana did not miss the apprehension that also resided in her features.

"Welcome to Marmoreal," Mirana smiled as Alice approached her. The Queen's regent grooming took over and she greeted Alice with all the elegance and propriety that one would except of a White Queen. But Mirana's thoughts and attention were not focused on the girl herself, but on what she held in her hands: the Vorpal Sword. The Queen's fingers itched to touch the cool metal blade once more.

Once upon another lifetime, Mirana had arranged for Tarrant's birthday a chance to train with the White Knights of her parents' army. She had watched his training from a far with a bit of envy. How she had wanted to wield the powerful weapons that he did, to learn to use them and channel their energy. Her vows prevented her from doing so, but Tarrant returned the surprise one evening and placed a sword in her hands. Standing behind her, he guided her movements in fluid choreography until she was sure enough to take on the sword herself. He convinced her that it was not breaking her vows to take the weapon; her vows were not to harm a living creature, not to never touch a weapon. What a rush of exhilaration and dynamism had surged through her body; how she wished she had never taken the Vows of the Healing Arts. That feeling returned each time she held the Vorpal Sword.

Now Alice was extending the legendary weapon to her. "I believe this belongs to you," she said humbly from her bowed position.

Adrenaline coursed through her as Mirana took the Sword from the girl. She allowed to herself but a moment to revel in its power, before returning it to its rightful place with the Knights Armour.

"The Vorpal Sword is home again," she said with a light sigh. A dreamy look misted her features. "The Armour is complete. Now all we need is a champion. "

Alice could feel the Queen's pointed look, but could not meet her gaze. She had no answer, for to say "Not I" seemed inappropriate and inadequate a response to the ethereal ruler before her.

Mirana sensed the girl's hesitance and let the subject go. "You're a little taller than I thought you'd be," she said with a kindly smile.

At this, Alice looked up and smiled a bit. "Blame it on too much Upelkuchen."

The Queen gave her a knowing look and a wagged a finger at her. "Ah, come with me."

* * *

_Tarrant's face was creased with worry and his eyes were a deep violet umber. He paced the floor of his workroom viciously with his bottom lip pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Mirana sat on the recliner near the window, bouncing her knees with nervous energy. She couldn't take much more of his silence; he'd said nothing since she told him of her father's plans, he had only paced. Mallymkun was on the work table pacing in time with Tarrant over a scrap over material that was beginning to wear thin._

"_Well?" Unable to contain herself, Mirana shot up from the seat like a cork from a champagne bottle. Surely her friends could stop this madness; they had to! If not them, then no one could or would. _

_Tarrant stopped his pacing in front of her and looked helpless. With a shrug, he flopped down on the recliner she had been sitting on. "I can't think of anything."_

"_Nothing?"_

_He shook his head. Mirana looked to Mallymkun who was still now as well. She, too, shrugged with a pained expression. The princess looked slightly wounded that they could not come up with a plan to save her, not even a madcap one that could not possibly work._

"_I don't see how you can avoid marry the Knight, Mirana." Tarrant rubbed the back of his head, still thinking. He was using her given name more freely when they were alone together or with Mallymkun. " I-I-" he gave up with another shrug and removed the hat from his head, forlornly turning it around and around in his hands. It was complete now, save for the lack of a band around the crown. He was contemplating leaving it that way. Absently, he rearranged the hat pins, trying to balance his own feelings about the matter with Mirana's request for help. He knew this day was coming; it had simply come sooner that he thought. And deep down, he had hoped that the kiss they had shared in the mural room might somehow change the inevitable. Obviously, it had not and would not. They had not spoken of it since it happened several weeks before; everything went on as it always had. _

_Mirana, who was thinking the same thoughts as Tarrant about the mural room, was about to give into tears of despair when another voice chimed in. "Sorry, I'm late," it purred above them. The trio looked up to see Chessur settling down on one of the hat stands. "Got held up by that temperamental Knight, What's-His-Name? Now what's so urgent that I am to help with?"_

_Mirana burst into tears, burying her face in her skirts._

_Chessur looked at Tarrant with wide, innocent eyes. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it." He spread his paws out, pads up, as though to show that his paws were clean in the matter._

_Tarrant shook his head ruefully. "It isn't you, Chess. Mirana's just been informed by her parents that she is be married to that temperamental What's-His-Name. In two months there is to be a formal engagement before the kingdom."_

"_Oh, that," the Cat flicked his tail at Mallymkun, attempting to knock her from her perch on Tarrant's sewing machine. "Yes, I heard about that. It's unfortunate, but nothing to waste tears over."_

_The Princess, the Hatter, and the Dormouse all stared at him in disbelief with just an implication of malice towards his cavalier attitude. _

"_We called you here to help," Mallymkun snapped at him, grabbing for his tail, which he vanished from her grip. "You can go away, you know. We don't really need you."_

_Chessur looked wounded. "But I am here to help. Listen." He swished around the Princess and the Hatter, putting an arm around their shoulders and pulling them toward him until their cheeks were pressed against his. "A lot can go right in two months time just as a lot can go wrong. Nothing is set in stone, only set in the Oraculum. And it's debatable as to whether that's gospel truth or not."_

"_What are you suggesting?" Tarrant shot him a perplexed look. _

_Chessur evaporated suddenly and when he did, Mirana and Tarrant fell together, bumping heads and nearly lips as they tried to catch themselves. "I'm suggesting that you three dark clouds pay Absolem a visit and seek his advice. I'm willing to bet that your parents did not consult him, Princess. And you know how he gets when he is left out of important events." The Cat shrugged and swatted a paw at them as though they were remarkably dense for not having come up with the idea themselves. "When you go, let me know, will you? I'd very much like to have a look at that scroll myself. One never knows when knowledge of the future will come in handy."_

_Mirana grabbed Tarrant's hands, imploringly. "When can we go?"_

_Tarrant frowned. "Can't be this week. Stayne will not leave for another four days." When he saw her face fall, he slipped one hand from her grip and put his arm around her, pulling her close. "Mirana, you must put up with him until then. Your parents are to leave immediately after that with business in the Heart Kingdom. We will go then. All four of us."_

_Mirana brightened for a moment and leaned into him, then she frowned. "What if the Oraculum say that I am to marry him?"_

_Tarrant's face, bright at her proximity to him, dimmed again. "Well, like Chessur said it's debatable as to whether the Oraculum is gospel truth or not. If it says you are to marry Stayne, we'll have to try and change it. Somehow."_

_Suddenly tired with discussing the matter, Mirana touched Tarrant hat, which was arguably his finest creation. Many had tried to bargain that hat away from him, Chessur not excluded, but Tarrant refused always claiming that it wasn't finished. Mirana knew though that he would say that even if it was finished because he did not wish to part with the hat. "Have you decided yet how to finish it?" she asked, looking up at him._

_Tarrant raised the hat to eye level with his free hand. "No," he said flatly, disappointment evident in his eyes. "I know it needs something still. Something- something silky or satiny, I don't know. Just different from the material of the hat and something not green. I should like whatever it is to hang down over the back, like a kite's tail perhaps... or perhaps not."_

_The quartet quietly gazed about the room looking for something that might fit his rather sketchy description. Then, in a sudden stroke of inspiration, Mirana stood up and untied the rose sash that she wore about her waist in her daily dress. It was a simple thing, not at all fancy save for the embroidered flowers and slight fringe at each end. _

"_What about this?" she asked, holding the garment out with flourish._

_Tarrant studied the fabric that she offered him. It took him a moment to place where he had seen it before. When he realized that it was her sash, he was immensely touched by the gesture. The color in her clothing was fading rapidly as she grew older. Eventually, all color would be gone from her wardrobe as white denoted her stature in life. Now the only color she had left were bits of fabric like the sash and they were becoming endangered. He smiled and took the sash, gently and skillfully winding it about the hat before tying it in the back. The ends of the sash hung down the back like twin tails of a kite. His hat was finally finishing and nothing in world would ever make him part with it.

* * *

_

After the White Queen concocted a Pishalver potion to return her to normal size, Alice learned that she had been summoned to see Absolem. Then, after returning from yet another puzzling conversation with the strange Caterpillar, she found the White Queen at her vigil by the spy glass. Alice approached her timidly, awed by the breathtaking beauty of the Queen; the Queen whom everyone in Underland, save the Red Queen's minions, would so readily lay down their lives for. No one more readily that Tarrant, Alice remembered. A terrific pain shot through the girl's heart and guilt twisted her insides. She had left him behind where he would almost certainly die. She did not want any of the curious creatures or people she had met to die, dream or otherwise, but especially not him. That curious feeling that caught in her heart and stomach when she thought of him, intensified until she thought she might burst.

"Alice?" The White Queen's sweet voice, laced with concern, broke through Alice's conflicting, confusing emotions. She blinked, unaware that the Queen had been watching her since she had stepped out onto the parapet. The Queen motioned for her to come closer. "You seem upset," she said in a low, soothing tone. "I hope that Absolem was not to unkind to you. He has a rough manner about him though he does not often mean his insults."

This made Alice smile a bit, a slight relief knowing that it was not just she to whom the Caterpillar was rude. She did not need another Mallymkun against her. "I'm-", Alice did not want to lie to the Queen nor did she truly wish to discuss a matter she could not voice anyway. "I'm exhausted." That was not a lie. She stood beside the Queen, understanding at once why her followers were so fiercely loyal. The White Queen radiated a warm, generous beauty of kindness and purity. Such a leader was easy to follow, even to certain death. Not that meeting the Queen had changed her feeling towards slaying the Jabberwocky. Still, she understood the why the others would give their lives for her.

The Queen, though serene, seemed to have a bit of nervous energy trapped inside, Alice deduced as she watched the woman slip a finger under a silver chain so impossibly thin that Alice had not noticed it before. From out of the top of her pearl-encrusted bodice pulled a small silver band with an intricate knot like pattern carved into it. Her slim white finger and thumb absently took hold of the ring and slid it back and forth over the chain.

"That's a beautiful ring," Alice commented in admiration of the delicate adornment.

"Hmmm?" Mirana's gaze was distant and her smile seemed even further away. "Thank you, my dear."

Ever curious, Alice wondered what the story was behind the ring. "It looks like a wedding band."

Something caused small ripples to disturb the Queen's tranquility. "It is," she said after a long pause, sounding almost sad, but not quite.

The girl was throughly intrigued. "Why don't you wear it?" Immediately, Alice bit her lip, wishing she had thought before speaking. There were any number of reasons that the lady might not wear the band, most of which were not pleasant and none of which were any of her business.

Mirana cast a kindly sidelong glance at Alice's innocent curiosity. Her placid feature misted over with a bittersweet smile. "My husband and I were separated on the Shatterky Day, the day I was banished to and he from Marmoreal," Mirana chose her words carefully as not to reveal her mate's identity. There no worry that Alice was a spy, yet the young Queen felt a strange feeling well up in her that caused her not to want to share him, any part of him, not even his name, with Underland's Champion. "I will wear it again when we are reunited and the Jabberwocky is slain on the Frabjous Day." She gave Alice a direct, meaningful look.

Alice ducked her head, knowing the Queen was expecting her to be Underland's Champion, just as everyone else was. That odd pain tripped through her again. Despite the nearly compulsive desire to please the White Queen, Alice was still Alice which was not the Alice. She wasn't even Almost Alice. She was just Alice.

Burying her own peculiar feelings, Mirana turned a good-hearted smile on the perturbed girl. "Are you truly alright, Alice?"

A grimaced finally broke over her face and she subtly wrung her hands . "I feel very guilty," she admitted in a small voice.

"Ah," Mirana nodded, understanding completely. "A feeling I am intimately acquainted with."

"You?" Alice did not sound as though she believed the Queen.

The woman chuckled softly. "Alice, I am a Queen whose people have been cruelly oppressed and murdered. Yes, unfortunately, guilt and I are close companions."

Alice moved to lean against the guard rail on the opposite side of the spy glass from the Queen. "Yes, but what happened wasn't your fault. What I did was mine."

_How little you know, dear child,_ Mirana thought regretfully. Peering around the spy glass she queried: "And what did you do?"

Alice tapped the thumbs of her clasped hand together anxiously. "I left my friends behind in Salazen Grum."

Intense concern pricked the Queen's stomach, but she maintained her composure and benignly asked, "Why did you do that?"

"Because they told me to." Though she kept her expression to a mild frown, her voice betrayed her deep remorse. "They told me to come to you with the Vorpal Sword. They told me run and... and I did."

"I do not see how that is wrong."

Alice turned suddenly to face the Queen with enormous, damp eyes. "I left them to die!" The words burst out out her like water suddenly breaking through a dam.

Mirana was a bit taken aback by the admission and was about to offer a reassuring arm to the heartbroken young woman when Alice said, "He was so kind and good to me. He did everything he could to protect me and I just left him."

"Him?" The Queen's pulse raced to a rapid tempo. Though his name unspoken, she knew of whom Alice was speaking.

"Tarrant."

The sympathetic look of Mirana's countenance froze in place and she could not have changed it if she had tried. _My Tarrant? _She thought, rage leaping up from deep within her. _You left my Tarrant to die?_ It was a guttural reaction not based on reason or rhyme. Tarrant, she knew was more resourceful than he was given credit for being and, with Mallymkun and Chessur's aid, he would find a way out of her sister's Castle of Horrors and still be in one piece.

Alice, though intensely distraught, was not as near tears as she sounded. She did not think she could cry if she had wanted to; it was a though she was beyond the point of tears. She wondered how she would handle news of his death. Even if it was only a dream that would have been killed she knew it would be as though the Vorpal Sword had pierced her own heart. "If I never see him again, I don't know what I shall do."

Mirana pulled back her arm at the peculiar look on Alice's face. She knew that expression somehow. The despair, the loneliness, the... where had she seen it before? Where? Particles of a recollection floated back to her bit by bit. It was on the Shatterky Day, it seemed, somewhere in one of Marmoreal's gardens. She had seen that expression in the reflection pool the last time she had seen Tarrant, before he was taken away by the Knave of Hearts. That expression of heartbrokenness had been on her own face.

Though her external expression never wavered, internally Mirana felt ill. Though Alice said no more about Tarrant and she did not press further for the girl's feelings, the Queen felt the unmistakable rise of jealousy and fear replacing the rage. Now that she studied the girl further, she saw the beauty she had missed before. With her blond, tousled hair and fair, refined features, she was surely as striking as people said Mirana was. What if Tarrant thought the same? What if Tarrant's return to Marmoreal was not for her, but for Alice?

_No_, _no_! Internally she shook the thoughts from her head, recalling the message Chessur had delivered to her: _Le mo ghrasa mise, agus liomsa mo ghra _or I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine. If Time had passed, if ten years had gone by, perhaps it would be plausible that Tarrant's feelings for her would have faded. But Time had not passed, it had not moved since the Horunvendush Day. Without Time, one's strongest feelings would be nearly impossible to change. Wouldn't they?

"I just want to wake up from this dream!"

At this frustrated outburst, Mirana became the White Queen again and left the insecure young bride repressed inside.

"I don't know why I can't wake up!" Alice was looking imploringly to the Queen as though she might be able to conjure up a potion that would force her to regain consciousness.

The lovely woman's eyes darkened a shade and her expression became grim. "Alice," she said sternly. "This is not a dream. This is a nightmare from which we are all trying to wake from." After a moment, her featured returned to the collected demureness with only a hint of concern in her dark eyes. With a small sigh she said, "I had hoped to have a champion by now."

* * *

Oh, Frabjous Day! Calloo Callay!Finally! Finally after all the years of waiting and wanting the Frabjous Day was just over the next horizon.

"Come on, Tarrant!" Mallymkun poked the shoulder she was standing on impatiently with her newest hat pin. The Hatter, as usual was lost in his own world, dead to what was happening around him. "Mirana is waiting for us."

"Yes, come on, Tarrant," Chessur hissed good-naturedly at him. "Or I'll take back that hat."

Even the Cat's envious slithering about his head couldn't distract the Hatter from staring at the world beyond the walls of Salazen Grum. With Chessur's incredible ability to change his shape, he had rescued both Tarrant and Mallymkun from their execution. And they in turn had lead a small revolt against the Red Queen taking with them on their journey to their Queen all of Mirana's courtiers: Uilleam the Dodo, the Tweedles, McTwisp, and so many others. And now, though exhausted and nearly starving, they were all headed toward the white citadel that stood out like a light house of hope, guiding them home.

"Come on, everyone," Tarrant said suddenly, as though he had been waiting on them all this time rather than the other way around. "Our Queen awaits us! Tally ho, over and yonder!"

The Tweedles looked at each other and Uilleam, throughly confounded by the Hatter's strange words.

"Let's not forget," McTwisp warned, ever the grounded soul amongst the madness. "That the Red Army still guards Marmoreal and you, Tarrant, are still banished."

"No, need to worry about that," The Hatter scoffed lightly with a joyful grin, searching the trees for something. "Now where, oh where, is my pretty dove hiding?"

Assuming he meant the White Queen, the motley crew exchanged concerned looks wondering if the Hatter hadn't gone completely off his rocker, not to return this time. Then, from out of the shadows of the branches before them, a soft coo-cooing was heard.

"Ah, Ailbhe!" he said softly as a dove of the most dazzling white floated down to perch on his waiting fingers. "I need you to carry a message for me."

"Gladly, Tarrant!" the dove fluttered her wings excitedly. "This is just the message I've been waiting to carry."

"You know it already then."

"Of course, I will tell the Queen that you are on your way." With the most graceful carriage that reminded the group of the White Queen herself, Ailbhe lifted herself into the air. "Wait for me to return in the foothills of Marmoreal just beyond the barricade. The Red Army does not patrol beyond there. The Queen, then, will guide you the rest of the way."

Tarrant beamed as he tipped his hat in a gentlemanly fashion and watched the bird fly off. His heart was so light that it seem to take flight with her. So close were they now; so very close.

Oh, to see Mirana again! His little dove was just over the hills across the chessboard fields of Marmoreal. And Alice! Dear, sweet, beautiful Alice. He surely would sweep her up into a grand hug the instant her saw her.

Alice!

___

* * *

_

"_One day to a new beginning. Raise the flag of freedom high! Every man will be a king. There's a new world for the winning. There's a new world to be won. Do you hear the people sing?" -One Day More from Les Miserables _

* * *

_If you have a moment, please review. Thank you._


	12. Breaking Through to Marmoreal

_AN: I cannot thank you all enough for the outpouring of support in the last chapter. It really lifted my spirits. I am so very glad that so many really like this story. I don't believe I'll get freaked out over a lack of reviews again. lol_

_To those who reviewed anonymously and I could not thank in a message- thank you! :D A special thank you to Imperceptible- you have no idea how far your review went to encourage me! _

_I'll name a character after you, if you can spot the two nods to Alice's characters from the original books. ;D_

_As for the situation with Alice, Tarrant, and Mirana let's just say that without Time, the days in Underland are long and nights longer still which provides plenty of opportunities for misunderstandings and missed chances. We won't get to that in the next chapter, however. Instead, we'll take a look at the marriage that led to Mirana's undoing._

_Mahalo for reading and reviewing._

_Lyrics to songs from Les Miserables by Alain Boublil (French lyrics) and Herbert Kretzmer (English lyrics)_

_"Siúil a Rúin" is a traditional Irish song as performed by Anne Buckley in Lord of the Dance._

_Movie quotes from the novelization by T.T._ _Sutherland_

**Chapter 10: Breaking Through to Marmoreal**

"_The rain can't hurt me now- this rain will wash away what's past. And you will keep me safe __and you will keep me close. I'll sleep in your embrace at last..." -A Little Drop of Rain from Les Miserable_

Upon seeing Ailbhe lite upon the railing of the parapet, Mirana felt oddly light-head and feared she might pass out. Though her corset was not tight-laced, it seemed as though it had suddenly constricted, leaving her without oxygen. _He's here! _Her heart sprang into her throat and she raised a trembling hand to her neck as if trying to make sure it stayed within her body.

The dove saw Mirana's eyes widen at her presence, but she did not speak for she immediately saw the that the Queen was not alone and she did know who the girl was. Ailbhe nestled back into a corner, her alabaster feathers providing camouflage against the austere castle walls.

Alice who was staring wistfully over Marmoreal's expansive grounds, her eyes constantly scanning the horizon, turned when she thought she heard the Queen inhale sharply. "Are you alright, your Majesty?" It struck Alice at that moment that she did not know the White Queen's name and she wondered if, in this strange dream, the Queen even had one.

"Alice, dear," the White Queen said, once she was sure her pulse would not be heard from her mouth instead of words. She ignored Alice's query, if she even heard it. Moreover, she dropped her less than subtle hinting that the reluctant girl should be her world's salvation. "Perhaps, it would be wise for you to visit Thackery in the kitchen. Food will replenish your energy and you will need all that you can find for tomorrow."

Alice's mouth twisted into a studious frown. "I cannot slay the Jabberwocky even with boundless energy."

"Nevertheless, a growing young woman needs nutrition." Again, Mirana did not seem to truly hear anything that Alice said. It was almost as if she was speaking to herself. "Off to Thackery with you." She waved a hand in slow motion through the air toward the castle fully expecting Alice to follow her gesture. Surprisingly, Alice did not protest.

The moment she was positive Alice was well on her way to the kitchen, Mirana abandoned her propriety and raced to the forefront of the castle to the a hidden stairwell. As she climbed up to the forebuilding, she tripped over her skirts in her haste. One more staircase to conquer, then she abruptly exploded into the private chapel contained therein. Beautiful stained glass windows detailing Underland's history decorated the perimeter of the room. Mirana did not bother admire them or even give them a glance as she went directly to the window to the left of the chapel entrance; unlike the other windows of the room, this one could open. She unlatched the hook and allowed the window to swing outward on the power of its own momentum. The moment it was agape, Ailbhe fluttered in, panting heavily with excitement.

"It's time, your majesty!" she cooed joyfully, flapping her wings together in front of her making it appear as if she was clapping.

Mirana moistened her lips in nervousness. "Is he really in the foothills?"

"Yes, Tarrant and all the others! They are waiting for you."

"Others?" The Queen tipped her head in curiosity. She had not expected anyone other than Mallymkun and possibly Chessur to be with him.

"Yes," the dove could hardly contain herself. "Mallymkun, Chessur, the Tweedles, Mr. McTwisp, and Bielle and her pups, and so many others! Most all of them are from your court, your Majesty!"

"Oh, Ailbhe!" Mirana was so overcome with joy, an emotion that she had not had in so long that she did not remember what it felt like, that she could not help but to kiss the dove's downy cheeks. The little bird giggled, sharing in the Queen's delight.

"Shall I tell him you are ready?" She was already in the air, terribly eager to complete her part in bringing the Frabjous Day to pass.

"Yes! Yes, be quick, Ailbhe!" Mirana waved to the little bird. "I shall see you soon!" She watched Ailbhe take off over the chessboard fields of Marmoreal to the anxiously awaiting Loyalists. Mirana felt as though her heart was riding on the dove's back.

With no thoughts of Alice or her sister or the Frabjous Day in her pretty little head, Mirana concentrated on recalling the words she needed to guide Tarrant to her. She prayed she had not forgotten; it had been ages since she last dared to recall them. For each recollection made the pain of separation so unbearable that she had determined to put them out of her mind until the needed moment. Settling on the window seat, Mirana took in the breath-taking view before her then focused her gaze on the foothills. She immensely regretted not being close to her spy glass, but she could not risk being in a place as exposed as the parapet lest Alice or one of the Loyalist of her Court should interrupt. Rising from the foothills was a phantom song that could only be heard by the ears of those with a heart to hear it; the music to a familiar song came to her like a cherished memory, baring its lyrics on the waves of its back. Without much thought, the words sprang from her lips in mellisonant soprano. To the layman, the song was nothing more than a lover's forlorn lament, but to the leader of Underland's Resistance, each verse was a riddle and the answer to each riddle told him where to go to avoid the Red Army and safely enter the White Kingdom.

* * *

A slight drizzle had begun to fall by the time Ailbhe returned to them. In spite of the dampness, Tarrant could smell the divine aroma of Mirana's scent lingering on the dove. The little bird landed upon his shoulder, opposite Mallymkun.

"She's ready, Tarrant! She's waiting for you," she chirped, preening slightly. "She's waiting for you all!"

The Hatter took the bird's delicate outstretched wing gently in his hand and lightly kissed her feather tips in gratitude. Ailbhe would not stay with them; it was not her nature to remain in one place for long and it was not necessary. She had fulfilled her objective. With a distant smile, his thoughts already in Marmoreal, Tarrant bid the dove an absent fairfarren.

"I'll see you all at Marmoreal," she tittered to the rest of them before taking flight again.

The White Rabbit stood to the Hatter's left shaking his head in doubt. "I don't understand, Tarrant," McTwisp said, nervously opening and closing his pocket watch. "How can the Queen guide us if she isn't here?"

Mallymkun rolled her eyes. Everyone knew it was pointless to speak to the Hatter when he was in one of his fogs, McTwisp especially, so why he bothered, she did not understand. Since Tarrant was no longer mentally present, Mallymkun took it upon herself to answer.

"Hush, just listen!"

In the haze of his mind, Tarrant imagined Mirana sitting in the window of the only stained glass window that opened in the forebuilding chapel just as they had discussed her doing so long ago. He could see the light winds that cooled Marmoreal gently holding her hair back from her shoulders like bridesmaids holding a bride's veil. Did she still look the same? Or had her sister's rule ravished her as it had him? He tried to shake the visions from his head and concentrate on her words.

_I wish I was on yonder hill. 'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill and every tear would turn a mill...Is go dtí tú mo mhuirnín slán_

Prior to their separation on the Shatterky Day, they two with Mallymkun and Thackery had planned the beginnings of the Resistance: the language, the cryptic songs and places- all for the Frabjous Day. Once they were parted, neither Tarrant nor Mirana could cross the barricade the Red Queen set up around Marmoreal. Should either be foolhardy enough to do so, the Red Army had orders to execute them on sight. The cruel twist was that all the rest of Underland's inhabitants could come and go as they chose to Marmoreal. Only a few, like Mallymkun who had vowed not to return until the Frabjous Day, did not go near the castle. The others ferried messages between the Resistance and the Queen, ever careful not to be caught. Many had, however, and their heads were now bobbing in Iracebeth's gruesome moat keeping the King of Hearts' head company.

The song that now drifted to the vagabonds was one from another world that had somehow broken through to Underland. They did not know its origins, but when the Hatter and White Queen had heard it, they turned its lyrics into a enigmatic map to guide the Resistance leaders safely past the barricades and into Marmoreal. They had never used the song until this moment and they only did so because Absolem, in a rare moment of camaraderie, reveled to them that the Oraculum had, for but one day, reveled that Tarrant and all those with him would return to Marmoreal on the evening before the Frabjous Day. The event then vanished from the Record, which Absolem now hypothesized was so that the Red Queen and her consorts would not discover this foretelling and impede destiny.

Tarrant's eyes searched the terrain while he mulled over the verse. "I wish I were on yonder hill. Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill, till every tear would turn a mill..." His Outlandish brogue was returning once more. Each verse was a riddle. Each answer to each riddle was a geographical location, a direction, a land form to which they were to journey. Each chorus provided a delay to allow them to figure out the riddle and move to the answer without unauthorized ears questioning the song's strange pauses.

To the west, several yards away from where the Resistance was gathered, a solitary green hill covered with a thick grove of weeping willow rose into the air, the highest pinnacle after the one the Castle of Marmoreal was built upon. At the summit, on the north side, was a decaying mill. Tarrant motioned for the group to follow him. No one questioned why they were moving in the direction they were, no one questioned the wisdom in following him, they simply moved in silence as swiftly as they could, keeping close to the brush and shadows. The path to the hill was arduous; they were still outside of Marmoreal, still on the other side of the barricade where the terrain was jagged and dangerous and unkind to feet and paws.

_Siúil, siúil, siúil a rúin. Siúil go socair agus siúil go ciúin. Siúil go doras agus ealaigh liom. Is go dtéann tú mo mhuirnín slán._

They were within sight of the massive crimson barricade that looked like a demonic house of cards marring the landscape of Marmoreal. The Red Army, though not as numerous here due to Alice's escape, was still an ominous presence, but not the group's biggest fear. That fear was the Griffin, who like the Bandersnatch and JubJub bird, was enslaved by Iracebeth. His sole prerogative was to make sure the Hatter never entered the White Queen's kingdom and that the White Queen never left. Hatter hoped they could avoid a confrontation with the Griffin; not only did he not care to die this close to Marmoreal, but he also did not care to have to fight the Griffin who had been a good friend in the Time before the Red Queen's bloody rule.

_I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel, I'll sell my only spinning wheel to buy my love a sword of steel._

_Is go dtéann tú mo mhuirnín slán_

The Weaver's ruins were a bizarre sight perhaps, until one understood that a house once stood on the hill next to the mill. The house had burned to ground after years of abandonment, leaving exposed to the elements the remnant of the furniture that had not burned. Just beyond the mill was a rock, the only gray rock in the region, and forty paces to the right of that was a rather tired looking spinning wheel without a reel. The worn faction stealthily moved toward the wheel, ever vigilant of the Red Army's Patrol.

It came as a bit of a surprise to Tarrant, after they reached the wheel, to discover an actual sword of steel when he was looking for a metaphorical one. Mirana, in her foresight, knew that they must cross the barricade at some point and that they would most likely have limited arms, if any at all. A ghost of a smile kissed his lips upon recognizing the sword; it was the one Mirana had supplied him on his birthday so that he could train with the White Knights back when her father was still alive.

_I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red and round the port I'll beg my bread until my parents shall wish me dead. Is go dtí tú mo mhuirnín slán_

Down the hill to the northeast was known to reside a poor beggar woman, Mary Ann, whose petticoats were stained red with the blood of her child who was murdered on the Horunvendush Day along with Tarrant's family. Out of her mind, she never changed her garments and often begged outside of a small makeshift graveyard where her child and husband were buried even though few rarely passed that way and when they did, rarely had anything to give her. The grove in which the crypt was made was called the Port.

McTwisp shuddered as they passed the woman who had once worked for him. Immense grief expanded in his chest, making it difficult to breath, when she turned her hollow, soulless eyes on him. Clearly, she did not recognize him nor anyone with him though she had once known them all.

Mary Ann rambled in an unknown language, holding out a vase with a broken bottom in askance of alms. The Hatter halted abruptly in front of her, staring blankly through her. He only moved again when Mallymkun gave a sharp tug on his ear. McTwisp lingered as the others moved on. He did not feel right passing by her, but he had nothing to give either. Even his brass pocket watch, once an envied possession, no longer held any value.

"Oh, Miss Mary Ann," he sighed, feeling his eyes moisten. "I'll get you help as soon as the White Queen is restored. She will help you live again."

For the first time, Mary Ann looked directly at him. McTwisp was stunned by the hatred in her eyes and involuntarily backed away from her.

"The White Queen murdered my husband and child!" she shrieked. "It her fault! She's a slurvish shukm!" The rant, though still loud, dissolved into the unintelligible language once more. Mary Ann was remnant of those who believed the Red Queen's lies about her sister; the poor woman had gone mad before the truth had been discovered and made known.

McTwisp glance worriedly in the Hatter's direction. What if he had heard Mary Ann's heretical shouting? There was no one more loyal to the White Queen and her Cause than Tarrant and his own madness was likely to cause him to slit the throat of anyone speaking such blasphemy against the Queen. How could he not have heard?

Tarrant had not heard because he was too busy shooing Chessur, who _had_ heard, away from his hat. Mouthing his gratitude to the Cat, McTwisp hurried pass the madwoman and rejoined the group as they head down the hill to the graveyard.

_I wish, I wish, I wish in vain. I wish I had my heart again and vainly think I'd not complain. Is go dtéann tú mo mhuirnín slán_

The rain began to fall harder. So hard that they had to take shelter on the other side of the crypt amongst the tall Toadstools, the wilder, more hardy cousins of the mushrooms that grew in the Tulgey Woods. They were also much noisier than their cousins due to their incessant croaking. Mallymkun crouched closer to Tarrant just in case the Toadstools should mistake her for one of the large, white flies that inhabited the area.

The members of the Queen's Resistance all huddled together, seeking warmth against the cold dampness. At rest, their adrenaline began to subside and they became acutely aware of how exhausted and hungry they were. Now a breath away from the barricades with a long and winding journey behind them, they still had a long journey ahead. Many of Mirana's courtiers were in pain and could hardly pick of their feet, but none complained. They were simply grateful to be free of the tyrant they had been forced to serve and were determined to reach Marmoreal and the White Queen even if only to take their last breaths upon the marble stairs that stretched to the castle's entrance.

Soon the rain subsided and the setting sun was visible once more, lifting their spirits a bit.

From the graveyard, the path was long and rocky to weakest part of the barricade that was guarded on one side by the desecrated Marble Valley, a rough and barren terrain from which Marmoreal itself was carved. Once a beautiful oasis with cooling waterfalls and pools, the Marble Valley was now a desolate desert, second only to the Outlands in misery and unwelcomeness. In the center of the barricade, an enormous heart-shaped red door rose as high as the knight chess piece carved into the castle. The entrance was guarded by only one of the Red Army; but he was the largest of the Army, he was the Ace of Hearts. The Ace was tall as the Bandersnatch when it stood on its hind legs and as wide as the Griffin when he stretched his wings. His spiked armor and thick, steel shield was impenetrable. His only weakness was the small space between his helmet and armor and it was nearly impossible to reach.

The hearts and hopes of the Loyalists plummeted as they stared up at the monstrosity before them, save for Tarrant and Mallymkun, whose intense determination to achieve their goal and see their Queen again blinded them to the Impossibility that towered over them.

Tarrant lifted his chin, studying the Guard with eyes of burning green embers."Mally, I need a distraction," he said coolly, completely the Scotsman.

"Aye, sir!" Mallymkun never hesitated; she darted off of his shoulder and across the shattered marble that littered the grounds around the barricade. She hide in the rubble, awaiting her commander's signal.

The Hatter turned his head slightly to the right, his gaze steady on the monster soldier. "Chessur, back her up. If she gets into any real danger, pull her out even if she bites you."

"As you wish, Sir Tarrant." There was no sarcasm in his vanishing reply.

"What do you need us to do, Tarrant?" McTwisp asked, hopping forward timidly.

"Watch for Griffin," he said, drawing his sword. "And keep the others under the Toadstools."

"Alright."

"Nivens?"

"Yes?"

"If I shouldn't make it-"

McTwisp raised a paw. "You'll make it, Tarrant. The White Queen is counting on you to make it."

"-you're to make sure the others make it to Marmoreal."

McTwisp reluctantly returned to where the rest of the Resistance watched from their vantage point, safely hidden under the Toadstools, silently praying for the confrontation to end in their favor. The Tweedles, who had been uncharacteristically silent, began to rock from side to side in unison. Without warning, they bolted from the group before anyone could stop them and ran to Tarrant's side.

The Hatter raised an eyebrow. He was about to reprimand them when something stopped him.

"Hatter?" Tweedledee tugged on Tarrant's coat pocket. He exchanged glances with his brother. "We've got a question for ya."

"More of a request, actually," corrected Tweedledum.

"No it ain't," Tweedledee frowned. "It's a question."

"I don't think you're right. It's a request in question form."

Seeing that an never ending argument was close to ensuing, Hatter cleared his throat. "Request or question, it doesn't matter," he said, trying to hold onto his thinning patience. He wanted to be in Marmoreal, not standing around waiting for the Ace to take notice of them.

The Tweedles stared guilty at the ground before Tweedledee spoke up again, "We were wantin' to know if there isn't something we can do to help the Cause."

At this, Tarrant could not help but to smile fondly at the boys. Yet he had no idea what they could do.

"We just want to do somethin' for the Queen," Tweedledum clarified. "Even if'n it's something small."

The Hatter thought for a moment before replying. "Would you be so kind as to hold onto to my hat?"

The boys lit up, neither missing what an important task they had just been charged with. They knew instinctively that helping the Hatter directly helped the White Queen, though they did not fully understand how or why. Carefully, they accepted the famed hat and scurried back to the Toadstools.

Tarrant turned to face the Ace, who miraculously had not discovered the plot to overtake him.

_Monstrous, frumious, and not very bright, _Tarrant determined. _Lucky us._

He raised a finger as if testing the direction of the wind, then jerked it toward the Ace. Mallymkun saw the gesture and ran straight for the giant card.

"HEY, YOU BIG STUPID OAF! THE MAD HATTER JUST GOT THROUGH THE BARRICADE AND IS GOING TO THE WHITE QUEEN!"

The Ace lumbered forward trying to find the source of the tiny screeching. His gait kicked up rocks that seemed like boulders to the little mouse, but she dodged them agilely. The Ace's bulk made it difficult for him to move quickly, which Mallymkun used to her advantage. She bobbed and weaved around his feet forcing him to turn in a circle and expose his backside to Tarrant, who was doing his own strange dance to get a clear shot at that soft spot. The obstacle to this was the height of the Ace and the height of Hatter being at such extreme odds. Of course, no one had any Upelkuchen on them as that would have made things too easy.

The Ace's foot slammed down, trying to squash Mallymkun. A large rock flew up just as the Dormouse jumped to avoid his foot and it struck her in the side. The force of the blow fell her to the ground. The giant card finally saw the source of his agitation and raised his foot to finish off the mouse when she was swooped up by an unseen force. The Ace was too slow to follow her flight and spun clumsily about. When he was able to steady himself, he discovered something more far more sinister than a mouse- the Hatter! If that terrible being should make it pass the barricades, the Ace knew that it would be off with his head.

If Tarrant had known that the Ace was actually afraid of him things might have ended differently. But how could the Hatter have known that any of the Red Army feared him? He did not know that their fear of him stemmed from that fact that they would most certainly be executed by the Red Queen if he was to make it to the White Queen. To them, the Hatter equaled death. And they did not wish to die any more than the Loyalists did.

The Ace charged at Tarrant and there was little the Hatter could do but try to stay a step ahead of him and hope Mallymkun and Chessur could give him an advantage. Soon.

Mallymkun was no longer flying through the air but was riding on the back on the Ace, thanks to Chessur. The Dormouse raced up the card's back to his neck hoping to guide Tarrant to his sword's target. She was deeply discouraged to find that the Ace's helmet sloped down long from the back of his head, protecting his Achilles heel or rather, neck in this situation.

"Tarrant can't get a clear shot," Chessur called to her from the Ace's left side.

"It's 'is 'elmet!" she cried. "It's protecting 'is neck!"

There was nothing to be done. Tarrant's sword could not penetrate the armor. If only she was big enough to lift it!

Lift it! Inspiration struck her and Mallymkun knew how it knock the helmet askew.

"Chess!" she exclaimed, running to the other shoulder. The Cat's eyes appeared, followed by the rest of him. "Can you get under the 'elmet and lift it?"

Chessur's eyes widened, his interest piqued. "We will see what we will see," he said and vanished. The Cat seemed to take an eternity to show himself again in Mallymkun's estimation. But reappear he did with his tail hanging down the Ace's back.

"Tarrant has one chance," Chessur roared. "His aim had better be good. I don't know how long I can hold this confounded thing up!"

"Tarrant!" Mallymkun took one enormous leap from midways down the card's back, landing hard just behind the Ace's last footstep. "Tarrant! Orgal!"

The Hatter's head jerked to the left looking for his friend, then the meaning of her cry became clear. He raced to the left, forcing the Ace to turn with him in order keep him in sight.

"Orgal!" she cried again. "Orgal!"

He turned left twice as fast as he could. The Ace had trouble turning as quickly as necessary and maintaining his balance.

"Klothchyn!"

The Hatter looked up suddenly and realized he was behind the Ace now. He caught a glimpse of what appeared to be Chessur's tail.

"Orgal! Orgal!"

He keep turning, making the Ace dizzier and dizzier. But he was ahead of the card now and slightly dizzy himself.

"Stang!"

His body followed Mallymkun's commands though his mind could not keep up. He jerked sharply to the right.

"Klothchyn!"

He looked up again and saw the back of the helmet begin to rise, exposing the Ace's pink neck. He grinned manically as it dawned on him what the purpose of the bizarre dance was. His target was suffering terrible vertigo and his movements were sluggish and finally came to a halt. The Hatter raised his sword as the card started to lean backwards. Summoning all of his strength and will, he threw the blade as hard and true as he could. It disappeared and the helmet fell as Chessur could hold it no longer. The Ace jerked up straight and let out a deafening roar. He turned violently on Tarrant and began to rampage, then in mid-stride, he faltered and fell.

A cheer went up from the Resistance as they swarmed around the Hatter, the Dormouse, and the Cheshire Cat. Chessur cradled Mallymkun carefully in his tail; the little mouse was beginning to feel the effects of the rock that had hit her. Tarrant barely acknowledged anyone as he disengaged himself from the congratulatory arms. He stepped upon the fallen Ace and walked over him to his helmet. From his neck the Hatter pulled his sword. He stood there for a long moment staring at the fallen giant. He did not feel any satisfaction from the victory, only sorrow. Though there had been no other way around the matter, Tarrant wished there could have been. "You will not have died in vain, my friend," he whispered morosely. "The reign of bloody big head ends tomorrow. It's only because of her that any of us are in the positions we are in. I am sorry that your end had to be at my hand." In that moment, he fully understood Mirana's decision to take the Vows of the Healing Arts.

After a moment of silence for the deceased-all of the deceased- Tarrant rejoined the elated group. The Winds of Marmoreal called to him once again. He led them to the Heart Gate. It took all of their collective strength to push open the Gate and close it once more, but once they did, they were in the arms of Marmoreal at last.

_And now my love has gone to France to try his fortune to advance. If he e'er comes back 'tis but a chance. Is go dtéann tú mo mhuirnín slán._

But they were not quite there. Though within Marmoreal's grasp, the Red Army could still spot them from the barricade and come after them. As a whole, they were too weak to fight and could not risk deviating from the Queen's song.

Tarrant scanned the terrain, this time searching for something unseen. Next to the magnificent towering pawn that announced the castle grounds, he found in the shadows, a doorway the gleamed a transparent aqua green. The door was called France, though they did not know for certain what a France was. Perhaps Alice had mentioned it on her first visit. Then perhaps not. No one knew. Or if they did, they did not remember that they did. Even though door was there and vaguely outlined, it was not tangible. One could pass through it or stand in the middle of it, but one could not open it and properly walk through.

"Allow me," Chessur grinned, floating ahead of them. He drifted over the doorknob and promptly evaporated. The instant he did the knob and appeared, allowing Tarrant to open the invisible door.

It would not take long before the Ace's corpse was found and Tarrant did not want to be near the barricade when that discovery was made. He hurried his compatriots through the dark doorway. Unlike most doorways in Underland, they did not come immediately out on the other side, but had to struggle blindly through a lightless tunnel. The Tweedles struggled most, gasping and wheezing, falling further and further behind. They were silent, a sure sign that they were not well.

"Lead them on, Mally," Tarrant said, allowing the others to pass him. Giving the twins an encouraging smile, he took each one by the hand, letting them rest their weight against him as they pushed onward.

The Resistance reached the final door and Chessur knocked it open with his tail. All at once they were blinded by the majesty of the pristine castle which was now right under their feet.

_Go, go, go, my love. Go quietly and peacefully. Go to the door and flee with me. And may you go safely my dear._

Their hearts soared, carried by relief and joy. Just a few more small hills and one set of stairs and they would finally find peace and rest in the arms of the White Queen.

And at the top, Tarrant just knew, that she would be waiting in all her radiant beauty for him. And he would finally be with whom he belonged.

Home. At last.

* * *

"_The rain that brings you here is Heaven-blessed! The skies begin to clear and I'm at rest. A breath away from where you are- I've come home from so far!" -A Little Drop of Rain from Les Miserables_


	13. Contemplating Words That Begin With M

_AN: My apologies on taking so long to update. I've had a lot of projects going on lately and have been trying to spend a little bit of time on each one. The latest endeavor has been starting up a group with Karibbean on deviantart for fans of the Tarrant/Mirana. Visit my profile page for the link if your interested; we'd love to have you. _

_I recently got a hold of the AiW: Visual Companion which is essentially an "Art of..." book. It's incredible, with pages of drool-over photographs of all the characters and an in-depth look at Underland and its characters from the POV of the actors, design artists, crew, and Tim Burton. Yes, Johnny Depp does seem to favor the White Queen. ;D Even though Stayne is very much a villain in my story, he's still a favorite of mine (all right fine, I love everyone BUT Alice :p). And there is an incredible picture of him with a raven- like the Hatter with the brown hare, Red Queen with the pig; it's from the same shoot- that was never released that I'm aware of. Such a pity too. Oh, and there's one of Tim with the brown hare. And there's Johnny's watercolor concept design of the Hatter and one of Tim's. And... :D_

_Mahalo for the reviews. If you have the time, a review would be greatly appreciated._

_These next two chapters not only recall the past but foretell the fall of Underland, as forewarned in the beginning and end quotes, especially._

_Because I had to divide this chapter, there will be one more and then the reunion. ;D _

**Chapter 9: When the Hatter Began Contemplating Things That Begin with 'M'**

"I dreamed I saw on a moonlit stair, spreading his hand on the multitude there, a man who cried for a love gone stale and ice cold hearts of charity bare. I watched as fear took the old man's gaze; hopes of the young in troubled graves. 'I see no day', I heard him say. So grey is the face of every mortal..." -The Prophet's Song, Queen

_The foursome of Tarrant, Mirana, Chessur, and Mallymkun stood at the end of a sloping garden path that led to the entrance of the Toothed Mushroom Forest. A strange, blue-gray mist wafted out from around the trunks of the dark mushrooms and swirled about their ankles, clasping them in foggy shackles. _

"_Well," said a Tiger Lily, regarding the strange troupe curiously. "Go on. If it's Absolem you seek; it is in the Forest that you will find him."_

_Tarrant gave Mirana a lopsided smile and a shot a troubled look over her head to the Cat and Mouse. "Right then," he said, sounding excessively cheery. "I suppose we should go on in."_

"_Right," Mirana agreed, gripping his hand tightly. _

"_Let's go," Mallymkun said with a nod. She clutched her hat pin sword in an anxious grip._

"_To go," Chessur said, flicking his tail, "requires one to move." _

_So Mallymkun climbed to Mirana's shoulder and Chessur drifted close to Tarrant's head. Beyond that, no one moved._

_Behind them, the roses snickered in their gossipy way. "You would think they were statues," one said._

"_A curiouser set of statues I never saw," said another._

"_I wonder if the Queen knows the company her daughter keeps?"_

"_Hush, you old thorns" snapped the Tiger Lily. "Leave them be. They're doing no harm."_

_Mirana intertwined her fingers with Tarrant's. "What if he won't see us?"_

"_What kind of wise man refuses an audience with a future Queen?" asked Chessur, in far more subdued tones than they were used to from him. _

"_Suppose we find out," suggested Tarrant, setting his hat straight on his head. He gripped Mirana's hand equally tight._

_With great trepidation, the friends moved into the miasma. Though they four had often lunched beneath the mushrooms, they had never seen such terrifyingly unsavory ones before. Great grey giants, the mushrooms towered at varying levels above them. Teeth-like projections gleamed down at them from beneath the round tops. The group gave a collective shudder, filled with an imminent fear that the mushroom tops might fall at any moment to trap them in those sharp teeth._

_As they walked, the noticed that the vapor that permeated the Forest, seemed to be coming from one fungi in particular; one that was directly before them. It was significantly shorter that the others and it seemed as though something was sitting on top of it._

_A voice wafted from the fog, a rich resonant timber, as they approached. "Who... are... you..?"_

_It became clear then, that it was not mist that tugged at them, but smoke from a hookah that was being used by a a very large, cerulean caterpillar. He looked down at them with great disdain and annoyance._

_Choking down her uncertainty and apprehension, Mirana stepped forward slightly, reluctantly releasing Tarrant's hand and craning her neck in order to see the top of the mushroom._

"_I am Mirana of Marmoreal," she said with as much authority as she could muster. "And these are my friends: Tarrant Hightopp, Chessur the Cheshire Cat, and Mallymkun the Dormouse."_

_Absolem exhaled a cloud of smoke and after some time, gave her a nod. "You know who you are, Princess. That is an uncommon trait in one so young."_

"_Thank you," she replied with a slight curtsy._

"_What is it that you seek?" he asked, in a strange manner as though Time slowed to a near halt as he spoke._

"_We need you to resolve a matter for us, Absolem." Mirana kept her voice soft and her tone respectful, hoping that a show of deference would put them in his good graces._

"_And you know what you want," the sage sounded impressed. "Go on."_

_Peering into the smoke, Mirana tried to hold his gaze. "My parents have betrothed to a man I do not wish to marry..." Her words brought a scornful smirk from the caterpillar who turned from her and returned to smoking his hookah. Mirana began to lose her nerve. "We- I- I have heard of the Compendium of Underland, the Oraculum, that foretells certain events that are to occur. I wish to know if it reveals who I am to marry."_

"_What a pretty little deceiver you are." It was a reprimand wrapped within a compliment delivered in a derisive snort. "You had me convinced that you knew who you are and what you wanted. Stupid girl."_

_Indignation boiled up in Tarrant who stepped to her defense with a terrific scowl on his face. "She told you who is and what she wants. Can you answer or not?"_

_Absolem ignored to outburst as if no one had spoken; his gaze now steadily trained on the girl. "If you knew what you wanted it would not matter what the Oraculum says or does not say. But you do not know and that is why you are here."_

"_But I do-" The princess's demure expression began to twist in confusion at the Caterpillar's strange manner of discussion._

"_You do not," he snapped firmly, puffing rapid rings of smoke in her face. "I do hope you have not neglected your regent training, Princess. As you are, you will make a very poor queen. You'd loose the crown within a year, I'd wager."_

_Tarrant's eyes flared in anger at the irreverent manner in which Absolem spoke to her, but Mirana placed a restraining hand on his arm._

"_Can you help us?" She cooed in the dulcet tones that always made her father succumb to her will._

"_That depends," Absolem arched an eyebrow at her, knowing full well what she was up to. "Can you tell me what is that you truly want to know?"_

"_I want to know to if I am to marry a knight called Stayne."_

"_That is not what you want to know at all. Your desire might have something to do with marriage, but it has nothing to do with a knight." This time, the seer turned his back on her._

"_Look here!" Tarrant could remain silent no longer and he shook an angry finger at the Caterpillar. "You have no right to speak to her like that. This is an important matter!"_

_For the first time, Absolem looked directly at him. His electrifying azure eyes ripped through the Hatter as if reading his soul. Tarrant shivered involuntarily, but held his ground._

_Absolem exhaled a long breath, spewing out a cloud of smoke that engulfed the Hatter. "To whom is it important?"_

"_To Mirana," he coughed, trying to drive away the fumes with his hand. "To Underland."_

_The smirk of superiority returned to the Caterpillar's visage. "You call your sovereign by name? I thought the good White Queen forbid such things."_

_A full frown blossomed on Mirana's face at the scornful way he referred to her mother. Tarrant did not respond. All thought fled from his head as he was fill with the inexplicable sense that Absolem knew his innermost thoughts regarding Mirana._

"_To whom is it important?" He blew smoke in the Hatter's face again. "To Underland or... to... you?"_

_Tarrant's cheeks turned a vivid fuchsia, easily seen through the dense blue-grey miasma. His embarrassment told the Caterpillar all he needed to know._

_Mirana looked at Absolem intently before she decided to try another tactic. "Absolem, what can you tell us?"_

_Absolem's head jerked toward her and his features softened. He said nothing, but turned away briefly. When he faced them again, he was holding a scroll. They saw the Caterpillar unroll the long parchment. A thick, billowing cloud engulfed him, blocking him from view. When it cleared, he leaned over the edge of the mushroom, gazing at them in a grave manner._

"_I can tell you that a very dark time is fast approaching Underland." His tone was low and remorseful. "You, Mirana of Marmoreal, will be Queen when it happens."_

_Mirana's pulse quickened with trepidation. "Does the Black Knight have anything to do with this?"_

_Absolem frowned. "You are destined for more important things than marriage," he informed her bluntly. "In less than a year's time, you will be Queen; it is not a destiny that you can alter. Every decision you make from this point forth will have an affect on the future of Underland. Events have already been set in motion that will bring this travesty to pass. Selfish desires and whims will bring the fall of the world sooner."_

_Mallymkun's shifted on Mirana's shoulder, sensing her friend's dismay and concern which intensified her own. "That's it then," she said, sounding defeated. "We are what we are and that's it?"_

"_I don't believe I was speaking to you," the Caterpillar sneered, sitting back. "I said Mirana's destiny was set; I did not speak of yours. What is not set can be changed and what is changed can affect what is set."_

_He turned his great eyes on Tarrant. "Be forewarned, Maker of hats and Confident of the soon-to-be Queen: that which is right within the wrong time frame can bring about a disaster you cannot fathom. Do not let emotion impede good judgment." Absolem did not allow them time to question him nor even time to think. He immersed himself in a smoke column that did not dissipate. It was clear that Absolem was finished with them and the four turned to leave. Tarrant sent them ahead and turned back to the sage. Mirana regarded him knowingly and did not question him. _

_Tarrant cleared his throat gruffly, trying to clear away his tremblings."You never answered the Princess's question," he managed to get out._

_A window appeared in the smoke and Absolem regarded him with one eye open and the other shut._

"_So formal now, are we?" He took a puff from the hookah. "The Oraculum is only concerned with major events, not minor ones. Marriage is minor."_

_Tarrant was disappointed to be sure, but could not think of anything else to say. He was not in the mood for riddles._

_As he turned to leave, Absolem said in an almost kind way, "I can tell you that black is not her destiny. There is a great deal of color in her future and a great deal of white with a pinch of powder blue in yours."_

_Absolem watched the young Hatter leave, mulling over his revelations. He had the strong feeling that his warnings had fallen on death ears. The Caterpillar went back to the Oraculum, which now revealed a young knight with long blond hair raising a sword to battle a fearsome creature. He shook his head in grave concern for the tribulation that Underland would soon suffer. As he did this, he did not notice the blue and grey feline floating just above him, taking in the sight of the fabled Oraculum and the events which were to occur._

* * *

_Barely three days had passed before Stayne was back in Marmoreal, determined to be a permanent fixture until the engagement. His return sparked a passion in Mirana for her studies unlike any her tutors had ever seen. While her ardent learning kept the Knight away, it also kept away her Hatter. It did not, however, quell her worried musing over Absolem's riddles and Tarrant's odd behavior since their visit to the seer. She knew that her childhood friend had lingered behind to further question the Caterpillar and she was fairly certain that it had something to do with her. But whether he merely pressed for an answer to her own question or posed a different one entirely, Mirana did not know. The answer must have been negative for he would not discuss it with her. Equally troublesome was that her friend, a lover of impossible riddles, could not figure out Absolem's strange warnings. They had trouble envisioning a dark time in Underland for they had never known such a thing. Any trouble that arose was always thwarted by their Champion, the White Knight of Marmoreal. Mirana's dreams were now haunted by terrifying visions of what might be._

_As per her mother's insistence, Mirana's non-studious time was spent with Stayne, supposedly getting to know him. She quickly understood that the way in which she wished to get to know him was not all the same way in which he wished to get to know her and it disturbed her. As per her father's insistence, she was not allowed to be alone with the Knight; Tarrant always chaperoned them. She took comfort in knowing that he was close and would protect her in the event that the Knight attempted to get too close, but worried about the ever-increasing friction between the two. As per Mallymkun's insistence, the Dormouse accompanied Tarrant everywhere he went for she was was the protector of them both. _

_During these outings with Stayne, when he began to talk of war and strategy and began to eye other women, Mirana often found herself dreaming of the man who always watched the Knight with a suspicious guard. In her dreamland, he would rescue her from marrying Stayne and Stayne would challenge him. Tarrant, naturally, won with his quick moves and clever wit. Then off they would run to a happily ever after. Sometimes Mirana thought her daydreams might actually come true for Tarrant had been acting very strangely since Stayne began to court her. He was a bolder presence around her now, no longer hanging back in the shadows when others were near. His attitude was different, as well; still the ever chivalrous gentleman with her, there a underlaying darkness in his attitude towards other men. His tongue was sharp and his tone irreverent. His eyes often sparked amber flame with a familiar look; a look often seen in her sister's eyes when she had something that others wanted but did not have. That amber flame was often intermingled with an intense green that she also recognized- the green that flared in Iracebeth's eyes when others had something that she wanted and did not have. Tarrant no longer had any qualms over taking her aways from the other courtiers and had gone so far as to enlist Chessur in helping them escape. The Cat had more than once used his incredible shape shifting abilities to make it appear as though she was somewhere that she was not. It was quite possible that Chessur knew more about being queen than she did for ever since he began impersonate her, the little Princess had all but abandoned her studies. Mirana never complained about these outings or the deceptions that accompanied them; in fact, she longed for them or helped to plot them._

_Now she was daydreaming again, as Stayne sat across from her, speaking in military jargon about things that went against her vows, on their journey to the Black Kingdom of her aunt and uncle. She had not seen them since she was five and hardly remembered what it was like in their kingdom. Tarrant sat beside her, warily watching the Knight. Mallymkun sat in Mirana's lap with her hat pin drawn and trained on Stayne. _

_The Knight, finally weary of hearing his own voice, leaned forward. His tall frame reached over the space between them and filled it completely. He grinned lecherously at her, reaching for her hands with one of his and placing the other hand on her knees. Her hands were promptly removed from his grip by the Hatter who insisted that she clap for the Knight's speech and proceeded make her hands clap like a puppeteer would make a puppet clap, sending her into a cascade of giggles. Stayne had no chance to react to that indignation, for Mallymkun stabbed him brutally in the hand that was inappropriately placed on the Princess's leg. He sat back on his own side of the carriage, glaringly murderous at the over-protective guardians. Mirana nestled closer to Tarrant, her gaze fixed on something outside the carriage window._

_Stayne took a moment to regard the odd twosome that his betrothed was never without. He could more easily understand a female's fondness for an animal like the Dormouse than he did for someone like the Hatter. No, he did not understand her tolerance, nay, fondness for the milliner at all. It mattered little though, he reminded himself. The moment he married Mirana he would be sure to banish the insufferable man to the Outlands and that bloody little nuisance of a mouse could go with him._

_The White Princess's aunt, on her mother's side, and her uncle were waiting to receive them in the throne room upon their arrival. They were odd pair, her aunt and uncle, so very different from her own parents. They allowed whim and fancy to dominate their rule, unlike her parents' strict adherence to the Charter. While the laxness of the kingdom made it seem a fun and desirable place to live, that undisciplined nature often led to misunderstandings that placed the Black Kingdom on the brink of war and too often in need of intercession from White Kingdom. Military officers like Stayne had been brought in to enforce the peace in the kingdom, inflicting their own militant rules where the monarchy did not care to. _

_Almost immediately, her aunt and uncle descended on her, tearing her away from the protection of Tarrant and Mallymkun and mocking her parents archaic insistence on a squire. Although her aunt seemed duly shocked to learn that her niece's escort was formerly her sister's hatter. "Allowing a hatter as a chaperon for a princess- has your mother gone mad?" she cackled, in shrieking tones. _

_Before she could protest the mocking of her friends, Mirana was forcefully taken away them because in __the Black kingdom, she was forbidden to have escorts of any kind. Especially when she was with the Knight._

_But they were not parted for long. _

_Slackness of the monarchs translated into laziness on the part of courtiers and servants and Tarrant found it remarkably easy to convince a chambermaid to allow him to take Mirana's night clothes to her. He was very surprised, however, to discover Mallymkun opening the door to him. Mirana was sitting on the window seat with her back to them, staring blankly out at the Black Wood Forests. _

_The odd coldness of the atmosphere told him that something was not right. "Did something happen?" he asked Mallymkun._

"_I just chased that knave Stayne outta here," she growled peevishly, thrusting her hat pin in illustration, nearly stabbing the Hatter's ankle. _

_Tarrant's eyes flared. "What was he doing in here?"_

_The mouse looked up at him, a dark expression clouding her eyes. "I'd rather not think about his intentions," Mally said in a low, severe tone. "There was nothin' good in them, I can tell you that."_

_Stayne's character, they had not misjudged apparently, but the Hatter was consoled that Mallymkun had prevent the worst case scenario from occurring. "You won't stab me if I go over there will you?" he asked, half-jokingly, half-seriously as he jerked his head toward Mirana._

_A small, secretive smile spread over the Dormouse's face as if she was in the middle of plotting a grand scheme. "I'll stab you if you don't." She jabbed the pin at him._

_He sidestepped her mock blow, none to sure she wouldn't strike, and regarded her quizzically. Sometimes, Mallymkun was prone to acting in a very strange, very female way._

_Mirana was unaware of his presence until he dared to lightly touch her cheek with the back of his fingers. She jumped skittishly, then released a relieved sigh when she focused on his face. He had barely seated himself next to her when her threw her arms about him and hugged him tightly. Something was very,very wrong. Her complexion was paler than normal and her dark eyes fearful. When he slipped his arm about her narrow shoulders, he could feel her tremble._

_A great ire arose in him, causing him to tremble. If that knave had done anything to her-!_

_He spoke carefully, making sure to keep his tone gentle. "Mally said that Stayne had been in here."_

_Mirana's lips pressed together so tightly that he could not see them. "Yes, but she ran him out, thankfully." She shuddered again and buried her face against his chest._

_His fingers caught in her long locks and wove themselves into her hair. "Did he do anything that you didn't care for?"_

_Her head gave a stilted shake. "He was simply too... close. There was something in his voice, something sinister, I don't know. It scared me," she paused, inhaling as though she was finding it difficult to breath. "I have the feeling that he knows about a great deal of things I do not and that he knows it. He's trying to take advantage of it. I do not want to ever be alone with him."_

_Tarrant rested his cheek against the top of her head. "You will never be alone with him. That, I promise."_

"_But I must. Tomorrow afternoon. My aunt has ordered it. You and Mally are not to be seen."_

"_Ah," he clucked soothingly. "Not to be seen. But she did not say that we were not to be unseen."_

_Mirana shifted so that she could look up at him. "You're not making any sense."_

_He smiled. "I will be close, as will Mally. Do not worry about how."_

"_And, if perchance," Another voice joined them, one of a feline nature. "Stayne should take you to a place where **they** cannot be unseen, I will be with you, Milady." Chessur bowed gallantly to her, garnering a smile from the Princess._

_Tarrant shot the Cat a nasty glare for disturbing his moment with Mirana. Chessur merely grinned innocently at him. Mallymkun, who had been hanging back to avoid making such a disruption, sneaked up behind Chessur on his perch on the wardrobe and put her hat pin to good use, catching his tail in its grip. Chessur roared with pain and outrage. He promptly vanished and did not return._

"_That's another one gone," she muttered very proudly to herself. She blew the cat hair from the tip of her sword._

_Tarrant indulged himself in holding Mirana close for a short while longer, before feeling that he should excuse himself._

"_You're not suppose to leave, stupid," Mallymkun groaned at his denseness when he rose, not realizing how loudly she was speaking._

"_Pardon me?" Tarrant looked at her inquisitively. _

_Mallymkun glared at him as though he had done something wrong and took out her weapon again, stabbing him just hard enough in the ankle to make him jump and stumble back against the window. He collapsed back into his seat falling against Mirana as he did._

"_Stay," Mallymkun hissed, thumping his ankle again, this time with the broad part of the hat pin. She retreated aways, but not far enough that she couldn't keep in eye on them._

_The Hatter and the Princess sat in the window long into the night, thinking the same thoughts about one another but not sharing them._

* * *

"_Have you ever seen the Chessboard of your aunt's kingdom?" The Black Knight cast a sidelong glance at his betrothed, whose hand he had captured in an iron grip. He was delighted to have her to himself, free of the oppressive milliner and mouse._

"_No," Mirana answered, trying to maintain as much distance between herself and the Knight as she possibly could. "I have not seen the Battle Grounds before. Is that where we're going?"_

"_Yes." A secretive smile tugged at the Knight's mouth._

"_Why are we going there?" Mirana tried to take back her hand, causing the smirk on Stayne's face to widen._

"_To have a little fun."_

"_Fun?" she questioned dubiously. "On a battle ground?" Her pulse was quickened by intuition that warned her of a coming danger._

"_Just a little combat between you and I." The smirk stretched into a noisome grin._

"_But I cannot fight you. It's against my vows!"_

"_Precisely."_

_Mirana knew that she was in a great trouble, though she did not fully comprehend the nature of that trouble. Her dark eyes darted frantically around the area, searching for a sign that her guardians were close. She saw nothing to indicate that they were and tried to calm the rising panic by reminding herself that neither Tarrant not Mallymkun would let her down. And surely Chessur was nearby as well._

_The Battle Grounds were expansive, an enormous black and white chessboard of marble. Battles, both real and games, were held there. Equally impressive were the black and white chess pieces that were taller than Stayne. The black king and queen were carved in the likeness of her aunt and uncle. Stayne was smug about the black knight in his own image, a testament to his high status in the Kingdom. _

"_Do you like my knight, Princess?" He asked a low, husky tone. He turned her around and advanced, backing her into the piece._

_Mirana swallowed, biting back a cry."It looks very much like you," she managed to choke out. _It is just as cold and uncaring as you_. _It was shame really, that Ilosovic has such an abrasive, frightening personality_, she thought, slightly stuck by the odd timing of such a musing. _He does have a handsome face, tis a pity he doesn't have the heart to match!

_But he didn't and she wriggled out of his grasp. Rather than being displeased as she thought he might be, Stayne tossed back his head and laughed. "Ready to play so soon? I'm surprised... and delighted."_

_Mirana didn't understand what she had said to spark that reaction. "No, I- what are you taking about?"_

"_A game of cat and mouse, Princess." He licked his lips in a salacious manner. "I know that you are very fond of that little creature that follows you about, so why don't you be her and I'll be the big bad cat on the hunt to devour the little mouse."_

_Mirana ran, though she knew that was what he wanted. But the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes mortified her. It was not a fair match. Every move she made he was there to block her. His height gave him an advantage, allowing him to easily see around any chess piece she tried to hide behind. Each piece she darted behind was turned over or moved out of her reached, forcing her to flee again. Once he nearly caught hold of her hair, but she somehow managed to evade him. Her final move of the game was to cower behind the white queen's piece. The Knight did not come. Everything was terrifyingly still. Her heart pounded so loudly she could hear nothing over it. _Tarrant! _Her hammering heart cried out. _Where are you? You're suppose to be my champion! Tarrant!

_Suddenly, Stayne was upon her, grabbing her by her upper arm and forcing her to stand and face him. "Look what I caught," he grinned, pressing his face close to hers. Mirana struggled trying to shove him away. Her nails caught the flesh of his gloveless hands. _

"_That hurt!" he grinned in a such a way that Mirana knew that it had not. "Breaking your vows, now are you, Princess?" He pinned her arms behind her back so forcefully that she cried out in pain. He hungrily leaned forward, trying to catch her lips with his. She turned her head, feeling his fiery breath igniting her face. Her knees buckled beneath and she closed her eyes tightly. Then suddenly, she was released and a breeze cooled her body. When she dared to open her eyes again, she saw Stayne on his knees before her grasping the back of his head and wheezing in pain. Tarrant, her champion, was standing over him, with a large, broken flower jar in his hands. As their eyes met, Tarrant drop the shattered pottery, grabbed her hand, and pulled her away from the fallen Knight._

_Stayne was stunned, but not injured enough for them to escape his wrath. He overtook them just as they were about to flee the board. _

"_Leaving so soon?" he hissed, his black glare leveled at the Hatter._

_Tarrant stepped in front of Mirana, giving Stayne back a dark stare that rivaled the Knight's. Stayne tried to reach around the milliner and grab the girl behind him, but Tarrant blocked him. _

"_How noble of you, Hat Man," Stayne growled in mock deference. "But your services are no longer needed. Mirana is my wife."_

"_Not yet, she isn't," Tarrant snapped. _

"_It is only a matter of time." A false smile overtook his visage. "And regardless, you are not to be here, as ordered by the Black Queen. I could have you arrested."_

_Tarrant shrugged with a defiant air. "And you are not to be alone with the Princes as ordered by the White Queen. I could have you arrested the moment you step foot in Marmoreal."_

_Stayne lifted his chin and the muscles in his jaw tightened. "There's one way to settle this then." And he drew his sword. _

_If he was even a little afraid, he did not show it. "Chessur," Tarrant called, not taking his gaze from Stayne. The Cat materialized on his right, giving the Knight a murderous look. "Take Mirana back to her room. Stay with her until I return."_

"_Tarrant, no!" Mirana breathed into the Hatter's back. "Don't do this!"_

_But Tarrant was beyond hearing her, for his own pride was as much at stake as her virtue was. Chessur hustled her away from the men with Mirana protesting all the way._

_While the game between Tarrant from the Court of the White Kingdom and Stayne from the Army of the Black Kingdom was unfolding in its Opening moves, Mallymkun scurried up the nearest tree and ran out onto a branch that hung low over the chess pieces on the White's side. Tarrant was no match for Stayne, especially without a weapon. The little mouse scoured the yard with a scrutinizing gaze for something the Hatter could use to defend himself. Her eyes fell on one of the White Knights who held a very long, very heavy marble sword. Mallymkun skittered across the board as quickly as she could while Tarrant danced around the Knight like a hare corned by a fox. To her delight, she found that only a a small pin held the sword in the knight's hand. She put the handle of her own sword against the head of the pin and push with all of her might. The pin gave way after a strenuous shove and released the sword that very nearly hit both Tarrant and Stayne as it crashed to the board._

_Tarrant grinned when he saw the weapon and rushed to grabbed it only to find that he could hardly lift it. _

"_Thanks, Mally," he grunted, raising the weapon only a few inches off the ground._

_Behind him, Stayne sauntered up to him, laughing cruelly at the Hatter's futile attempts to wield the weapon. "This is too easy. I'm almost tempted to walk away." A vile loathing glazed his eyes. "Almost." He raised his sword to strike._

_Tarrant, struggling under weight of the stone sword, turned awkwardly bringing the weapon with him. Unable to control it, it crashed into Stayne's legs causing the Knight to fall and loose his grip on his own sword. It skittered a few feet away, out of Stayne's reach but within Tarrant's. The Hatter abandoned the marble weapon and went after the Knight's to Mallymkun's cheers for the weapon switch was what she had in mind from the start._

_With a weapon more suited for him, Tarrant was able to concentrate on recalling the skills he had learned during his week-long training with the White Knights that Mirana had arranged few months prior for his birthday. The Middlegame showed that he was remarkably good for someone of his occupation and limited training. And it clearly caught Stayne off guard and infuriated him at the same time. The Knight went after the Hatter with a vengeance, but the typically accurate and precise fighter was awkward and clumsy under the weight of weapon too heavy even for him. However, Stayne was skilled enough to use the weight to advantage and proceeded to knock over nearly every game piece on the board to throw off the Hatter or to knock him down. To Stayne's chagrin, Tarrant still managed to maintain his hold on the Knight's sword. But there quite a difference between a man who was a trained Knight and one who had trained with Knights, and though Stayne did not gain the upper hand as quickly as one might have suspected, gain it he did. Tarrant's mistake was being too predictable; like clockwork, he wove in and out of the game pieces, using them as a shield between himself and Stayne. The Black Knight was able to figure out the Hatter's pattern and used the marble sword to fell the Black Bishop into the Black Queen that Tarrant headed for. Tarrant heard Mallymkun's warning cry too late; he turned into time to see the Queen crashing down on him. Stayne's sword was flew from his grip and out of his sight. His world was flooded with hot, intense pain as his grip on the conscious world began to loosen._

_Stayne, who was certain this was the Endgame with the Hatter in such obvious checkmate, took his time walking over the pinned Tarrant, who vainly struggled to push the Queen off of himself. He revelled in the sight of the pathetic Hatter who was nothing more than animal caught in a trap and like any good person, he knew that such an animal should be put out of its misery. It was the only humane thing to do. The Knight grinned a wickedly victoriously sneer as he reclaimed his sword. He stood over the Hatter who had ceased his struggling and was glaring rebelliously at him. "Well, now Hatter-who-would-be-a Knight, that was a valiant fight you put up, but clearly the better man won. Since you will not be around to tell Mirana about our battle, I will tell her for you. Is there anything else you would like me to tell her or..." he grinned like a serpent, carefully choosing his words for the most impact. "Shall I kiss her for you tonight when I go to her room and-" His risqué taunting was interrupted by a howl of pain that escaped from his own throat as he felt, and heard, the bones of his left foot shatter under a tremendous weight. That cursed Hatter had somehow managed to lift the Queen enough to crush Stayne's foot under the sharp points of the crown. The Knight shoved the marble pieces off of his foot, making sure that it cracked Tarrant in the chin. He shook with such a fury that he could not accurately aim his sword. Stayne said nothing as he raised the weapon over the Hatter's stomach, all the malice and loathing he had for the other man evident on his twisted features. All of Tarrant's strength and energy were depleted and the pain that engulfed his body made it nearly impossible to move; he could do nothing to defend himself. With thoughts of his Mirana flashing before him at a dizzying rate, he steeled himself for the final blow.... the final blow that never came. Tarrant had never before heard such a sound as the kind that came from the Knight; a high, choked scream of unparalleled agony as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. Tarrant saw through his blurred vision, Stayne stagger backwards, clutching the side of his face. Blood flowed down his cheek, through his fingers, and soaked his uniform. Somehow, Tarrant managed to find a tiny reservoir of adrenaline and her pulled himself from beneath the fallen Queen. Slumping over the giant chess piece, he struggled to catch his breath as he surveyed the strange scene and tried to understand what had happened. But he couldn't._

"_He won't be botherin' us fer awhile." Mallymkun's voice startled the Hatter, who winced as he turned his head to look at her. His eyes widened in shock and horror when he caught sight of her and a wave of nausea slammed over him. For Mallymkun held proudly in her blood-stained paw, the Knight's eye on the end of her hat pin._

"_Oh, dear" was all he could mutter much to Mallymkun's disappointment; she was quite proud of her prize. Securing her trophy safely around her waist, the little mouse did the best she could to help her friend off of the chessboard, leaving the Knight in checkmate on the field. Once in the Gardens, Tarrant collapsed and Mallymkun could not wake him._

_Time eluded him and parts of his memory abandoned him; it was quite awhile before Tarrant could remember what had occurred that led to him waking up in Mirana's room on her bed or what might have made her smile so tenderly as she softly proclaimed, "my champion!" and kissed his lips. He did not question it, only accepted it with a smile until his eyes closed and he saw visions of a skewered eyeball dancing on a hat pin in his dreams._

* * *

_The return to Marmoreal was nothing like any of them imagined it would be. Mirana, Tarrant, Mallymkun, and Chessur were all positive that the Knight's behavior would surely change the monarchs' minds and forbid a marriage between Mirana and Stayne. Though all four told the King and Queen the same story about Stayne's knavish behavior, that story fell on deaf ears. Mirana's parents did not seem to be themselves. The Queen, looking heartless and uncaring, and the King, appearing weak and pale, accused Mirana of being cruel to Stayne, for making him feel unloved, and for bringing his appalling actions on herself. They went on to accuse Tarrant of being a bad influence on her and banished him to the Outlands for eternity and Mallymkun with him for encouraging that bad influence. They did not know Mallymkun's real crime for Mirana convinced her parents that it was a rogue raven that took Stayne's eye as the Knight himself had not seen Mallymkun before she struck the maiming blow. Mirana was besides herself with shock and indignation; surely this was all a dream and she would wake up at any moment. But she did not, no matter how hard she pinched herself. All of her charming manipulations could not soften her parents to listen to the truth, but that charm did manage to spare Tarrant and Mallymkun's permanent banishment. _

_The three cohorts did not go unpunished, however. Tarrant and Mallymkun were exiled from Marmoreal for a period of four weeks, in which they were to have no communication with Mirana so that all three could contemplate their actions. Little could be done about Chessur, but the cat was all too glad to disappear and not be seen for a while._

_Tarrant was given time to collect his things from his workroom that he would need during his absence. Mirana, who had the sympathy of the servants in her plight with Stayne, was allowed to say her goodbyes while they diverted the attention of anyone who might be looking for her. _

"_It's only one month," he assured her with a smile, sounding more hopeful than he felt. "I'll be back."_

_Mirana said nothing. Her face was devoid of emotion; she seemed distant and cool. When he touched her, her skin was icy. He had never seen her in such a blank state. _She's given up_, he suddenly realized. _She's resigned herself to marrying Stayne.

_Without thinking, he pulled her close to him as if trying to bring back the warmth to her body, but even though her arms were around him returning the embrace, it felt as though he were holding air she was so far away._

"_This isn't over," he said softly into her hair. He tried to keep his own despair out of his voice, but he was faltering too much._

"_Why is that?" she asked flatly. There was no despair in her voice. There was simply nothing in her voice at all._

Why is a good question, _he thought.__ Absolem's strange riddles drifted back to him "I can tell you that black is not her destiny... There is a great deal of color in her future and a great deal of white with a pinch of blue in yours." Instantly, he understood part of the strange sayings, though he did not know who the blue was, he knew who the white was and he knew who the color was. _Mirana.._. he thought, _major...minor... miracles... milliner....musings...marriage...

_He smiled, as a delightful scheme began to form. "I've been contemplating things that begin with M," he whispered conspiratorially. _

_She looked up at him, her brow slightly lifted. "Why M?"_

_He touched her the tip of her nose with his finger and grinned. In a moment, they were transported back to the mural room, as he dared to allow his feelings for her to come through. In the fire of his kiss, her icy wall began to melt._

* * *

"'Listen to the warning,' the seer, he said. 'Beware the storm that gathers here.' Listen to the wise man...He told of death as a bone white haze taking the lost and the unloved babe. Late, too late, all the wretches run; these kings of beasts now counting their days. From mother's love is the son estranged; married his own, his precious gain. The earth will shake, in two will break, and death all round will be your dowry..."- The Prophet's Song, Queen

* * *

_A review, if you have the time, would be lovely._


	14. Mallymkun, Madness, Mirana, and Marriage

AN: The closer it gets to the end of the school, the busier I get at work. Couple that with all the projects I have going on and updates take much longer. And this chapter for whatever reason was hard to write. But summer is just around the corner and with it more time to write. :D

Many thanks to all the readers and reviewers. :D Reviews always help speed things along. ;)__

**Chapter 10: ****Mallymkun, Madness, Mirana, and Marriage **

"'Listen to the warning' the prophet, he said. 'For soon the cold of night will fall summoned by your own hand. Ah, ah, children of the land, quicken to the new life, take my hand. Fly and find the new green bough, return like the white dove... 'Listen to the warning,' the seer he said. 'For those who hear and mark my words- listen to the good plan...Oh, flee for your life! Who heed me not let all your treasure make you. Oh, fear for your life! Deceive you not the fires of hell will take you should death await you" -The Prophet's Song, Queen

_In the month's duration of her punishment, Mirana had learned of a great many disturbing things that were occurring in the White Kingdom that gave new life to the night terrors she'd endured since the visit to Absolem. She had learned of rumors of wars with neighboring kingdoms, including the Black Kingdom. She had learned of strange ongoings in the Outlands that involved the training of Red and White Armies. She had learned that her father was growing weaker with each passing day. She had learned that her mother was a cruel woman. She had learned that her father had a plan to depose her mother._

"_Is she mad?" Mirana recalled the first time she and Tarrant had been separated after his father had been declared mad and had to leave the Court. She could not believe this was true of her mother, but then she could also not accept that her mother, who had so gently taught her culinary skills and the healing arts, could be a vicious woman. It was much easier to believe her mad._

"_We will convince the Council that she is," her father had told her. "I am sick, Mirana, I cannot not hide that fact any longer. I don't know how much time I have left, but no matter I cannot allow the White Kingdom to remain in her control with her true nature no longer repressed. The White Kingdom is the sentinel of Underland, the ultimate power in our world. The devastation that would occur if the Crown was controlled by dark ruler would be unfathomable."_

_Mirana did not dare to try to understand the enormity of what her father was telling her without Tarrant's support and insight and so, during the waking hours, she lost herself in a dreamland that was not ruled by monarchs and royals, but one ruled by the people. In the sleeping hours, her psyche overworked itself as it tried to deal with the realization of what was unfolding in Underland. _

_One morning, the pretty little princess stood out on the parapet by her mother's spyglass when she heard a soft cooing to her right. She turned to see a dove of the purest white land upon the spyglass. The dove's large amber eyes radiated a sweet warmth. In her golden beak was a light lavender envelope which she nudged toward Mirana. _

"_Hello, Ailbhe," Mirana smiled, taking the note from her. "How are you?"_

"_Wonderful, Princess. The trees are so inviting and lovely to spend time on since you've taken over their care."_

"_Thank you, my friend. A soft word yields more growth than a harsh command." Mirana turned over the note and lifted the seal, noticing with amusement what looked suspiciously like tea-stained mouse paw prints over the back. Inside was a handmade card. Wisps of gray and blue cat hair blew away in the breeze as she pulled the card out. In careful, flourished penmanship was written:_

_**Tomorrow is a very important date!**_

_The inside read:_

_**Mr. Tarrant Hightopp**_

_**requests the honor of your presence for tea.**_

_**Time: Brillig **_

_**Place: The March Hare's House**_

_**Don't be late!**_

_Mirana grinned. Her friends' exile would be over tomorrow and, for the first time since they were banished, she felt happy. _

"_Shall I tell Mr. Hightopp to expect you?" Ailbhe fluttered her wings, eager to take flight again._

"_Yes, Ailbhe." A grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat's spread over her face. " I'll be there."_

* * *

_Tarrant was a nervous mess and appeared to be quite literally falling apart at the seams ever since Ailbhe delivered the Princess's RSVP. Mallymkun regarded his panicked whirlwind with an amused curiosity, but she fully understood the reason for his nerves. The Dormouse attempted to help him prepare for Mirana's arrival, but spent most of her time time dodging either his feet or the dishes that he haphazardly arranged, discarded, and rearranged. Finally, she gave up and retreated to the March Hare's House. Thackery had so kindly let them use his place while he was off visiting relatives in Snud. Inside, Mallymkun found Chessur lounging about on his back on the sofa, muttering to himself. Creeping up behind the sofa leg, the mouse listened to the odd murmurings coming from the Cat._

"_Ooo hoo, if only they knew what I know!" he was purring with delight. "Who knew that peculiar little girl who fell down the rabbit hole would be so important? But that Knight, who is she? Not Alice, I dare say. Couldn't be. Alice is only a child. I wonder, I wonder..."_

_Mallymkun frowned, trying to make some sense of the effervescent Cat. Inching forward a bit more to get a better view of Chessur, her hat pin caught on the sofa's leg creating a sharp scratching sound._

"_Who's there?" Chessur hissed, his head flipping upside down followed by his body._

"_Oh, Chess, there you are!" Mallymkun jumped into his line of vision, her arms opened wide with the sweetest look that she could muster on her face as though she had been looking for him all along. She fluttered her short lashes at him like she had seen Mirana do when charming her way into or out of a situation. _

"_Yes?" He eyed her with wary aquamarine eyes. _

"_Will you be staying for tea?" she asked demurely, immediately arousing the Cat's suspicion. "Tarrant wants everything perfect for the party so we need to know who all is attending."_

"_Yes, I'll be there," he flashed a brief grin. "It's been awhile since we've had a good party."_

_Mallymkun hid a frown. That Cat was hiding something; something that sounded very important, unless of course delirium had seized Chessur. She dismissed that possibility- he was mad, but not delirious. However, she was worried that Chessur might use whatever information he had to somehow ruin the festivities and she could not allow that to happen. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Chess, I 'ave something to show you. I was going to wait until Mirana arrived, but I simply cannot!"_

"_Oooh? Do tell...what is it?" Chessur billowed over close to her._

"_This!" Mallymkun pulled her souvenir eye which was nestled safely in a net-like holder from her belt and dangled it in front of the Cat's nose, knowing full well his dislike of such things._

"_Oh!" he squalled, reeling away. "How absolutely frumious, Mallymkun!" He tried to look away from the thing, but found that he could not. The more he looked, the more horrific it became. His blue stripes faded to a sickly green. "You're surely not going to bring **that** to tea?"_

"_Well of course!" the Dormouse replied, innocently. "It's my good luck charm. Besides, I want to show it to Mirana. She will be so pleased!"_

"_Cancel my reservations then," he shook his disembodied head in disgust. "And give Tarrant my regrets. You've positively put me off my tea!"_

_Mallymkun grinned as Chessur vanished. "Tarrant won't miss you today, you silly Cat!" And she holstered the eye again, before scampering off to clean herself up. _

_The Tarrant in question was no longer rearranging the table setup outdoors in a frenzied manner. He had abandoned that and now sat on stump near the edge of the woods around the House. The nervous flutterings that had been buzzing about since he came up with his rather hare-brained scheme to save Mirana from Stayne now landed altogether in a dense stone in his stomach. He had distracted himself from the Reality of what he was about to do by planning and re-planning the day over and over with Mallymkun, intentionally loosing himself in a fantasy world where everything ended as the dreamer wished. Reality now firmly planted itself in his lap as he sat on the stump and refused to budge until he had faced It. And It told him what he already knew: this was a stupid idea. Not a mad one. A stupid one. He was allowing his own emotion to guide his judgment. This plan, It informed him, would not save Mirana. It would do nothing but break hearts and quite possibly completely destroy a life-long friendship._

_Is it worth it, Tarrant? Reality questioned him coldly. Is it worth losing Mirana for good in attempts to hold onto to her more closely than you should for but a moment? Think about it, Hightopp. Then Reality stood up abruptly and Tarrant forgot everything It had said as a high-pitched squeal of delight from Mallymkun heralded Mirana's arrival. There was no undoing now the plan that had been started. Consequence was now the uninvited guest and It sat at the head of the lavishly set table silently waiting for them._

* * *

_It was a enraptured reunion among friends as Tarrant, Mallymkun, and Mirana ran to hug each other. Even Mirana's horse seemed excited to have the trio back together as it whinnied and brayed its own delight to them. The tea party commenced with wild, idle chatter and loud, raucous bantering. All three party-goers seemed nervous with heavy things weighing on their minds and they grew louder and sillier as if hoping that that would somehow make those things go away. But as the afternoon began to fade away, the Dormouse paused a moment, her eyes darting from one end of the table to the other. If their plan to save Mirana was to be put in action Tarrant would have to begin it before the Knights came to gather Mirana. Mallymkun had a distinct feeling that she and Tarrant would not have the same freedom in Marmoreal as they once had and if they waited they might not have another chance to help her. Scurrying halfway across the table, she darted to the bowl of sugar cubes, picked one up, and launched it at Tarrant. It hit him square on the nose. The Hatter looked wounded, having clearly forgotten their prearranged signal to begin the Plan. The mouse chucked another cube at him. This time he ducked. Clearly annoyed, he opened his mouth to protest the cubing when one landed in his mouth. This seemed to jog his memory and his green eyes lit up like neon beacons. _

"_Oh, Mirana!" He jumped up suddenly, knocking over a plate of scones and a saucer and very nearly choking on the sugar cube still in his mouth. "I have something to show you."_

"_All right," she grinned, taking his extended hand. She looked over her shoulder. "Mally, are you coming?"_

_The Dormouse did not respond. She was sitting in a full tea cup, pretending to be asleep. Mirana shrugged and turned her attention back to Tarrant. Her Hatter led her through a small gathering of trees and bushes into a small clearing that caused her to gasp in amazement. The clearing of mossy green ground was surrounded by a wall of climbing white roses that were not native to the area, which meant that someone had planted and laboriously cultivated them to get them to grow so magnificently. In her adoration of the rose wall, she nearly missed the little white gazebo that stood expectantly in the center of the clearing. The rafters of its roof housed a multitude of white doves, one of whom she recognized immediately- Ailbhe. The little dove winked at her cheerily. Soft, sheer alabaster fabric was draped about the railings of the shelter, its ends fluttering in the warm breeze. She turned inquisitive eyes on Tarrant._

"_Is it my unbirthday?" she asked, thinking that this was quite extravagant lengths to go to for an unbirthday even for Tarrant._

"_Yes," he replied with a wide smile, though he sounded suddenly nervous. "But that's not what this is about."_

"_Oh?"_

_He guided her up the steps of the gazebo and stopped her in the center of the deck. Trembling, he took both of her hands in his, suddenly wishing he had taken Reality's advice. But it was too late for that. She was here and he had to go through with the Plan, no matter what the Consequences were._

_She was so curious to know what he had planned that Mirana could hardly stand it. She had never seen her friend so anxious, so fearful around her before it worried her just a bit. She squeezed his hands affectionately causing him to look directly her. The blush that crossed his face was obvious; Mirana noticed for the first time that his long curls were temporarily restrained by a tie at the nape of his neck. In fact his entire dress was very sharp, very clean, very white. Very un-Tarrant like._

_The Hatter cleared his throat. He hoped that she would be able to hear his words over the hammering of his heart. "Mirana," he began, his mouth suddenly drying out on him. "I-I've thought long and hard about how to get you out of marrying Stayne. I think I've found a way."_

_She gripped his hands tighter, delight lighting up her eyes. She knew he would come up with something. She had always known. "You have? What is it?"_

_He lost his nerve at the moment, knowing that what he was about to say was the last thing she would ever consider. The eloquent speech he and Mallymkun had slaved over was forgotten as he realized how ridiculous he was about to sound to her. No matter how good of friends they were, she was still a princess and he was still just a hatter._

"_Mirana, I don't have much to offer you." His eyes stared at her hands unable to face her as he fought back the urge to stutter. "I am not a Knight, I have no wealth," he faltered then, unable to go on._

_With slight frown, Mirana touched his cheek with her hand as though that might help her better understand what he was saying had to do with helping her avoid marriage to the Black Knight._

"_But I can offer you something that Stayne can't," he blurted out in words too rushed, too garbled. The last shreds of his confidence piled around her white clad feet. "Love and laughter."_

_And then Mirana understood. He was proposing! Her pulse quickened and her own nerves caused her to tremble while a joyous smile slowly drew out the corners of her mouth. _

"_I-I..." he fumbled in his pocket for something, nearly dropping it as he pulled it out. In a quavering hand he held out a small gold ring set with an exquisite quartz gem that reflected all the colors of the rainbow; a rare gem found only in Witzend. "I-I would be honored if you would consider me for your," his voice faded to a whisper. "husband."_

_Tears of happiness blurred her vision and she discovered her voice had left her. He misunderstood her inability to answer and desperately wished to flee but his legs would not oblige him such an action. She was convinced that she was dreaming; that her vivid daydreaming had driven her to the edge unable to distinguish Fantasy from Reality. He was convinced that he had ruined their friendship._

"_Someone pinch me" she finally murmured, not meaning to say it out loud. Tarrant didn't understand her response and, heart-broken, he started to pull away but she would not let him go. "Ow!" Mirana cried out suddenly, jerking her foot up and grabbing tightly onto her Hatter. _

_Mallymkun peeked out from beneath Mirana's skirts with a sheepish smile, her hat pin brandished. "You're not dreaming," she whispered encouragingly. Glancing at Tarrant and seeing the ashen look on his face, she nodded toward him. "What's your answer?"_

_Mirana turned back to Tarrant and hugged him closely. Pressing her cheek to his she whispered, "You've no idea how long I've imagined you asking me that."_

_It was only then that he realized that he had stopped breathing. He let out the held breath with great relief and smiled. "Honestly?"_

"_Oh, yes!" She held out her left hand to him and he eagerly placed the engagement ring on her bare third finger. Mirana let a squeal of delight and dizzily grabbed his neck. pulling him into a kiss._

_Nearby, Mallymkun did her best Futterwacken._

* * *

_The moments that followed that joyous engagement lacked merriment for them. For an engagement did prevent a marriage. Mirana was merely engaged to two men now; one whom she loved and one whom she feared. She still would have to marry one and not the other. An idea that had seemed so perfect at the time, now seemed a tattered, pathetic plot. _

_Nothing accomplish, nothing gained, Tarrant moaned to himself, not able to enjoy the fact that she had chosen him over all others._

"_Aren't you happy, Tarrant?" Mirana pulled away from him, unable to understand his loss of enthusiasm. Did he regret asking her to marry him? Already?_

_Dragging his thoughts out of the mire of his gloom, he tried to give her a bright smile but it only came out sad. After staring at her for a long moment Tarrant finally said, "This doesn't solve anything."_

_Mirana crinkled up her nose with a funny look. "Of course it does, silly. It changes everything." At the unchanging look on his face, she became worried. "We are getting married, aren't we?"_

_Tarrant frowned. "How can we get married?" he sighed, tossing his hands up in surrender. "I'm no Knight. The Charter won't allow us to be married. I don't know why I ever thought this was a good idea."_

_Mirana muttered something under her breath that sounded vaguely like an unrepeatable version of "hang the Charter". She turned away from her Hatter, deep in thought. Out of the blue, Absolem's face appeared in her head and a portion his words became clear._

"_Tarrant," she ventured hesitantly, still trying to piece together her thoughts. "Absolem did say I was to be Queen very soon, didn't he?"_

_He glance at her over his shoulder. "Yes..."_

"_When I am Queen, when the time comes to crown the White King, I could change the Charter."_

"_You'll be married to Stayne by then."_

"_Not if we get married first." She tugged at his arm to get him to face her again. "I cannot marry Stayne if I am married to you. Whether anyone likes it or not, it will not matter. No one, not even my mother, can dissolve my marriage. My father would not allow her to even try. I know he wouldn't."_

"_But the crown can be taken from you," he countered, afraid to get hopes up only to have them shattered again._

_Mirana shook her head. "No, it can't. I have already been named Queen by my parents and my rule has been set in the Oraculum."_

_For the first time since they began the conversation, hope glimmered in the young Hatter's eyes. "We will have to keep the marriage a secret," he said contemplatively. "I'm sure your Mother would find a way to undo things. But if we stay silent until you are Queen..." He frowned again and shook his head. "What about Stayne?"_

_Mirana rolled her eyes skyward, sick of hearing the Knight's name. "When the time comes to marry Stayne, I will simply tell them I cannot and why." She shrugged casually as if to say "what are they going to do about it"._

"_But who will marry us?" Tarrant was beginning to take hold of this mad idea again. "We can't go back to Marmoreal and be married. I can't think of any minister in the land that would marry us actually. Surely they would alert your parents."_

"_I know of one. He was the White Bishop for decades, beginning with my great-grandparents. He retired years ago after becoming disillusioned by the marriage habits of the royals."_

_Tarrant grabbed her suddenly by the waist, capturing her in the wild tailspin of his famous Futterwacken. Mirana squealed in surprise and held on tightly to him._

"_It won't be much of a wedding," he said, setting her gently down. He was serious again._

"_I won't mind," she said adamently. "I won't even mind not have a wedding dress. I really only want one thing."_

"_What?"_

"_You!"_

"_Oh," he grinned boyishly, clearly teasing her. "You cannot get married without a proper gown. I won't allow it."_

"_Tarrant," she whined impatiently, pushing her bottom lip out into a pout. "I don't care about that. Let's just get married. We can have a proper wedding when I am Queen before all the kingdom."_

_His teasing grin widened. "Come on," he laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her along with him like he used when they were children and he could not wait for her to follow on her own._

"_Now what is it?" she giggle chasing after him, barely able to stay on her feet._

_He led her halfway across Witzend, or so it seemed, before finally stopping on the outskirts of the Hightopp village. A small hut was partially hidden in the thick foliage of the nearby trees. Tarrant pushed open the old splintered door with some effort. The inside of the cabin was dark until he lit a series of lamps giving life to the interior and revealing that cabin had been converted into a private workroom, filled to overflowing with bolt of unusual fabrics, hat stands, feathers, trim, spools of thread, and a multitude of millinery tools. In the midst of the controlled chaos, stood a dress form upon which was built the most glorious wedding gown. The pristine white seemed to cast its own soft glow onto the room around it. _

_In a day filled with hoped for, yet unexpected, surprises, Mirana did not know which one caught her the most off-guard. As she reverently circled the gown and finally dared to gingerly touch the delicate silken fabric it became apparent that a sewing machine had never touched the virgin material. The gown, right down to the last stitch of embroidery and tiny bead, was all hand sewn. Gowns like this were rare and expensive as they took years to make._

_Mirana regarded Tarrant with unabashed awe and adoration. "How long have you worked on this?"_

"_I don't know," he shrugged as though the dress was nothing more than a simple hat. "Maybe four years."_

_She shook her head in wonder. "You didn't make this for me to marry someone else did you?"_

"_No." _

"_You always knew, didn't you?"_

_He shook his head slightly. "No. I just always hoped."_

* * *

_The White Bishop was sitting on the porch of his retirement home when the eager young couple came riding up the path towards him. From the look on their faces and the unbridled joy in their movements and voices, and the tell-tale gown, he knew instantly why they were coming to him. Since his retirement from the White Court he no longer had to perform ceremonies over sham marriages that had nothing to do with love and commitment but only with greed and power. Now he united those truly in love with one another in the sacred vows, most always those who's love was not accepted amongst their peers. Over the years, he had been visited by every combination of couple imaginable- the little field mouse and her gutter rat fiancée, the Lilly of the Valley and the Bramble Bush, and on occasion a noble man or woman and their peasant love. Yet it had been a very long time since he had been visited by a future ruler of Underland and he never been visited by a future queen._

_It did not surprise him much that it was Mirana who was seeking his service and it surprised him even less that it was her Hatter she brought with her. A bittersweet smile settled on his wizened visage. Two of kind they were and always had been. Tarrant, he knew, was the best choice of husband for her, but he was also an impossible choice. They would never find peace in their union, the Bishop knew, should they go through with it. A heavy weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders. He could not in good conscience marry them when he knew what that that lay ahead of them. Their future was sadly written in the past. For many years ago, when Mirana's grandparents ruled Underland and he was still Bishop in the White Court, her father, King Abban, had come to him with his scullery maid love asking to be wed in order to avoid marrying a princess, Mirana's mother, whom he did not love. In those days, the Bishop still believed that love conquered all and, against his better judgment, joined the two in marriage. A lack of wisdom governed the young lovers afterwards and led to their downfall. The marriage was quickly dissolved and the maid-who-would-be-queen vanished from the Kingdom, never to be heard from again. Rumors and those who participated in them were squashed with an iron fist. The original marriage went on as arranged and the effects of a loveless marriage had had a profound effect on White King and Queen's firstborn. Miraculously, the second child seemed to escape the ill-effects at least until now._

_Giddily and nervously they approached him and asked him the question he knew was coming. Will you marry us? Without bidding they explained their positions and defended their love, mistaking his silence for disapproval. With sincere regret, he told them that he would not do what they asked and he then explained his position, though he did not mention Mirana's father or mother by name. _

_Their faces fell, their joy shattered like a china plate. Glancing at each other fearfully, they slowly turned their backs to him and began to conspire. Words of "what will we do" and "we'll figure out something" caught his ear. "No one else will marry us" and "we don't need anyone else" worried him greatly. With a final plea, they begged him to reconsider but he sadly shook his head. Tears glistened in Mirana's eyes as she turned away again and Tarrant gathered her in his arms as he led her away. "Don't worry" the bishop heard and "we'll be together no matter what" set off an alarm within his mind. What if they did something rash? What if they did something foolish? The old Bishop stood and stretched out his arm to them. What if a child was brought into the middle of this? What if …?_

_There was something about them was purer than most of the nobles and their loves who came to him. There was something innocent, something unearthly, something realer that real about their love. He called them to come to him and brought Reality in as a witness. He told them that the journey they were about embark on was an impossible one, one that was not meant to be. They would have little rest, little serenity; most everyone would be against them and the lengths to which some would go to destroy them would be unimaginable. He did not expected them to listen him nor heed his warning- none ever did. But it was his duty to warn them. He asked for a witness and a little mouse dress like a knight came forth with a sense of high honor for she served not only as witness but as maid-of-honor and best man. The Bishop led them inside to the small area of his home that was reserved for such events. _

* * *

_Absolem sat upon his mushroom in the Forest, puffing on his favorite hookah as he took in his daily viewing of the Oraculum. His eyes scanned the document as he huffed in a long drag, his gaze widening as he watched the Compendium change before his eyes. A new day emerged, three weeks after the Horunvendush Day- the Shatterky Day. The image that appeared with it showed the White Queen being held back by Red Guards, confined to Marmoreal, as the Hatter was being dragged away beyond a strange red edifice that looked like a barricade._

_The Caterpillar shook his head. "Stupid children," he muttered, knowing they what they done and that they had not listened to anything he had said. "If only they had been patient ..."_

* * *

_The marriage was sealed in a long-lasting kiss that ended with the newlyweds parting enough to gaze into one another's eyes with adoration. Their contended sighs were joined by Mallymkun's who watched with dreamy eyes, for once not caring how girly she appeared. The White Princess and the Hatter: theirs was a fairytale love. _

_But they did not live happily ever after. In fact, they lived quite miserably for a very long time after._


	15. A Queen of White and a Champion of Blue

_AN: Many apologies for the slow updates. I'll admit I get discouraged with the lack of Tarrant/Mirana stories or shall we say, good non- Alice/Tarrant stories, to read that it's hard for me to get into the mood to write. And then there's work. Almost over. Almost over. :D_

_This is an interlude piece; the second of three. I am so sorry for the delay in the next "real" chapter. ***ducks flying tea cups*** From this point out, the chapters are taking longer to put together; much will happen both past and present before the Frabjous Day and if I'm not careful things will get convoluted and I don't want that to happen! I'm also terribly sorry for not thanking everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Sometimes it's hard to respond to everyone individually- you should see my message center on deviantart! 0_0 But each review means a lot and I appreciate even the shortest ones. So mahalo nui loa. :D_

_To Kate's Master: I will sign whatever you need! As an educator I feel guilty for distracting anyone from their studies. Roflol ^_^ Thank you so much for such a high compliment- I am very flattered and not sure I deserve the praise, but I'll take it. :D_

_Ah, well you know the drill: reviews help me write. _

_If you're thinking about writing for this pairing but not sure if you should- please do! And let me now if you decide to. And to those who are writing, you need to update. NOW. You know who you are. I kid, I kid. Sort of. ;D_

_Lyrics to "Wake the White Queen" by CruxShadows. The name in the song is Helena and has been changed to fit the story. _

**Interlude: A Queen of White and a Champion of Blue **

_" Well-behaved women rarely make history." - Laurel Thatcher Ulrich_

They stood together on the parapet awaiting the arrival of the same person, so much alike and yet so very different. Oddities in their own worlds with curious ways of looking at things. Each mad in their own way. It would not ever cross the minds of either that they had anything in common nor anyone else's for that matter. One in white: once a rebel who did as she pleased- convention be cursed, now forced to bare the painful consequences of that rebellion. And one in powder blue: determined to live her own life and ardently steadfast in her refusal to conform to society's expectations of her for she had yet to face the consequences of such bold behavior.

They had much to learn from one another had they chosen to discuss such matters. Sadly, both were lost in a waking dream, in desperate need of someone to bring them back to full consciousness so that the Frabjous Day might come to pass. Escaping to a fantasy create by one's own mind was not the answer for either. Not when there was a Reality to face and fight.

_Little girl, running away from the world. Don't blame yourself, words are less than love. In a Wonderland, you can bend the course of fate. You can find the key and dream the darkness away._

_And if you search within yourself to wake the White Queen, the key is hidden deep inside the world you're making. And if you find it in yourself, you'll wake the White Queen. For mother's love you'll understand, this mirror's in your mind..._

_Taking books and Valentines, your guide...Run Alice, the Black Queen's lost her child and the tendrils dark are eating up the light.. You see her through the window but she's looking back at you!_

_And if you search within yourself to wake the White Queen, the key is hidden deep inside the world you're making... And if you find it in yourself you'll wake the White Queen. For mother's love you'll understand, this mirror's in your mind. And everyone wears a mask..._

_The Nothing is coming to swallow the world and your mother is sleeping; she dreams of a girl. But the girl she is dreaming, your dream is her world. Still the Nothing is coming because it follows you, little girl..._

_Poor Mirana went to sleep, a princess where she used to be. Poor Mirana went to sleep and woke up in a dream_


	16. Destiny Impeded and Alice's Part In It

AN: I feel terrible for letting this go for so long. I know I've grown frustrated looking for new updates or new anything featuring Tarrant and Mirana and finding only uninspired, redundant Alice/Hatter or Hatter/OC stuff, so I feel guilty for leaving you all without. It's so bad, I've turned to Alice/Stayne fics! O_O However, work is over for the summer- nothing until August, so more time for writing and all the other projects I've got going on. Stop by Curious Couple on dA for more T and M stuff. ;)

Oh, and the DVD is out in the US! I hope that inspires more people write Hatter/White Queen or finish on-hold stories. I know it's helping me out. o_O

**Chapter 11: Destiny Impeded and Alice's Part In It **

"_So sad her eyes, smiling dark eyes; so sad her eyes. As it began on such a breathless night as this; __upon my brow the lightest kiss. I walked alone and all around the air did say- my lady soon will stir this way..." -White Queen, Queen_

"I had hoped to have a Champion by now." Alice had once again joined the Queen on the parapet where her spyglass was stationed. Mirana had taken up the task of once again not so subtly hinting her desire to see Alice take the mantle of savior of Underland.

Alice shook her head, sending her long curls flying. It was not the whole of Underland she wished to save, but rather just one inhabitant. Of course, she did not tell the Queen this. "Why don't you slay the Jabberwocky yourself?" she challenged, feeling inexplicably annoyed by the melodramatic beauty. "You must have the power."

"In the healing arts," Mirana countered airily. "It is against my vows to bring harm to any living creature." At that moment, a very horrid, very large lightening bug flew near her face and she began to viciously swat at it, catching herself a moment before Alice did. The blond did not seem to take much notice that the Queen nearly broke her vows; her thoughts were far from Marmoreal. She was unaware that they traveled the very same longing-filled path that the White Queen's thought so often followed.

Alice had had little success in diverting her thoughts from the guilt that plagued her since arriving at Marmoreal and the terrible unrest that came with not knowing her Hatter's fate. A piece of that guilt was tied to the promise she had made to Tarrant and never even tried to fulfill. But without him, there was no point in pursuing Mirana. However, she vowed to herself, if he did somehow turn up in one piece she would do everything she could to fulfill her promise to him. No matter what the personal cost might be.

_Personal cost?_ Mentally, Alice reprimanded herself. _Where did that come from? _

Though the White Queen stood serenely by Alice, radiating the appearance of calm confidence that everything would turn out as it should, her dark eyes darted back and forth, constantly searching the horizon for any sign of him. _He should have been here by now!_ Then, far in the distance, something caught her eye and she turned abruptly to her spy glass. Over the hill, they came- the first thing she saw was the unmistakable color of his frazzled curls. She began to tremble as deep cracks began to form in the dam around her heart. It took all the energy and willpower that she had left to casually turn to Alice and announce,"We have company," before handing the spyglass to her.

Alice's heart soared when she saw his mop of crimson curls. Her whole countenance lit up and the brightest smile overtook her fair features. _He was safe! He was here! _She wanted to run to him and throw her arms about him. With great restraint, she pulled away from the spyglass and turned to the dog near their feet. It was an unnatural calm that possessed her. "Have a look, Bayard," she said kindly, letting the dog look through the glass.

"Bielle!" Bayard did not care to maintain the calm of the Queen and Champion and raced away as fast as his weary paws would carry him to his wife and pups from whom he had been separated for so long.

The refugees returned to Marmoreal was a joyous one. McTwisp was one of the first to reach Alice and Mirana as they followed Bayard to the courtyard. Delightedly, he clapped his paws together, unable to contain his happiness with being home again. Alice, forgetting her manners, pushed past the Queen, but the Queen did not notice the rudeness. Her eyes could see nothing but her husband and her ears could hear nothing but his voice.

"I'm so happy to see you!" Alice exclaimed. She stopped in front the Hatter, inches away from his face, and found that she could not move any closer. His clothes seemed to brighten and perk up at her closeness and the smallest blush crossed the bridge of her nose. "I thought they were going to-"

"So did I! But they didn't!" Tarrant's speech quickened, each word coming out faster than the last the closer Mirana came to him. "And now here I am... still in one piece... and I'm rather glad about that now that I'm seeing you again... I would have regretted not seeing you again... especially now that you're you and the proper size... and it's a good size... it's a great size... it's right proper Alice size..."

Mirana had always envisioned herself running down the grand staircase to him, throwing her arms about his neck, and letting go of all the emotions she held in for so long regardless of who might witness it. But she could not for such was another vow she had, much like Tarrant's vow not to Futterwacken until the Promised Day. As it was not yet the Frabjous day, she merely glided as she always did with intent to leave a meaningful, lingering, promise-filled kiss on his cheek. But as she came near, she discovered that her path to him was obscured. And the obstacle in her way was none other than Alice. Mirana stopped and stared at them for a moment with a strange bemused look on her face. She tried to recall a recent time when Alice would have been able to slip a knife unnoticed into her heart. There was no Time, she realized. Yet that was what must have happened, for she felt the blade twist as she heard her Hatter exclaim over Alice finally being the right size. The Tweedles crowded around her feet, tripping over themselves to be the first to tell her of all they had been through. The mask of perfection returned as a too-sweet smile melted over her demeanor. The cracks in the dam of her heart began to fill with ice. She kissed each one of the boys on the forehead, leaving behind the print of her false smile.

In his mind's eye, Tarrant had always imagined himself running to embrace her, sweeping her off of her feet, and capturing her in a kiss that would make the Red Queen blush. But he did not. He could not. Rather he blathered on stupidly about Alice being the right size. He could shut himself up no more than he could comprehend why his Queen was kissing the Tweedles but not him. Or snuggling Mallymkun to her cheek and not him. Or embracing McTwisp and the dodo but not him. Why was she regarding him with the same vague tolerance that she would regard a lightning bug with?

"Hatter.." Alice looked at him worriedly, wishing very much to take his face between her palms again, but to shy to do so in front of an audience.

"Size, Fez.. I'm fine." He smiled lopsidedly, unable to move. His thoughts had become stuck as he tried to catch his lady's gaze only to find that she was deliberately avoiding him.

"Where's your hat?" Again, Alice had to resist the urge to reach out and touch him.

With great effort, Tarrant left behind his cragfast thoughts and returned his attention to Alice. He lifted an eyebrow but otherwise remained mute. Suddenly, the hat materialized next to them along with Chessur's wicked grin.

"Chessur?" Alice grinned at the devilish, mad cat. She felt unnaturally happy and his appearance only served to bolster her spirit even more.

"How's the arm love?" the Cat purred.

Alice allowed herself a full smile. "All healed," she replied, offering her arm up as evidence. Chessur nodded merrily though his jovial mood last only until Tarrant held out his hand for his hat. The Cat heaved a heavy sigh and reluctantly returned the borrowed item. "Goodbye sweet hat," he murmured regretfully. As Tarrant returned the hat to its rightful place, he glanced at Alice and exchanged secretive smiles with her.

Mirana saw the smile between the two which spoke more than words ever could. When the others was not looking and without a word to anyone, she pirouetted as fast as a whirlwind and left the courtyard. She could not dare to speak another word to anyone for fear the pieces of her broken heart should spill out of her mouth and never be recovered.

* * *

Thackery saw her escape, as her route led her pass the kitchen. Curious, he took his pot of salt-less soup and followed her a bit, but she had vanished like Chessur and so he came to a dead end. The commotion in it courtyard distracted him and he hauled his pot to the entrance of the castle. The sight of Tarrant and the others enraged him. How dare they be late for supper! No wonder the Queen had fled! Trembling, he looked over each friend, undecided on who to chastise first. His gaze caught on the disturbed look on the Hatter's face and he stuck a paw in the soup, flinging the liquid at the nearest lightening bug. _Guilty_, the Hare determined._ What'd he do now, other than be late for supper?_ He saw Alice clinging curiously onto Tarrant's arm and looking up at him a strange look on her face. Still miffed at the girl for telling him he needed salt in his soup, Thackery considered putting her in his soup to see how she made it taste until it occurred to him that it something was terribly wrong. He crinkled his nose and tried to piece together the shattered fragments of his once sharp mind. As the pair neared him, he saw before his eyes a Hatter from a bygone era coming up the steps of Marmoreal with a pale-haired beauty clinging to his arm with giddy adoration. He smiled in an almost goofy manner and was about to rebuke the Hatter and the newly crowned Queen for being to supper when he blinked and saw Mirana's hair take on a blonde shade and her eyes lighten to a pale blue.

_This Mirana was not right._

_This Mirana was wrong._

_**The wrong Mirana! **_

Thackery's mind had pieced together splintered remnants of thought that did not belong together and thus had come to right conclusion in a wrong and confusing fashion.

IMPOSTER! His mind screamed. WHERE'S MY SPOON ? And he flung a ladle full of unsalted soup at the girl. His only regret was that she saw his action and ducked, causing the soup to shower down on the Dodo.

Tarrant didn't notice the flying soup; he was too consumed with his tumultuous emotions and the mystery of why the White Queen had vanished. All along Alice had been saying that this was a dream and perhaps it was. A terrible, awful, horrible dream. He wished very much to wake up. To add to his confusion, Thackery, his dear friend, glared murderously at him as he passed and violently chucked a spoonful of soup at his hat. Tarrant managed to snatch his precious cargo off his head in time to prevent it from being stained with greenish liquid. He attempted to question the Hare about the Queen's whereabouts, but like Mirana, Thackery would have nothing to do with him. Poor Tarrant felt no more welcome in Marmoreal than the Knave of Hearts. In fact, only Alice seemed happy to see him. No one else had said much to him.

Mirana's lady-in-waiting, Clara, greeted them inside the castle walls. Tarrant received no warm welcome from her, but he did not expect one and so her frostiness towards him did not bother him. Clara informed them that they were to follow their designated courtier in order to clean up for supper with the Queen. It was then, as the motley group was split according to gender and taken to separate wings, that Tarrant noticed Alice was still at his side. He looked down at her with a smile, feeling strangely warmed by the way she looked back him with sidelong, shy glances. He waited politely for Alice to let go of his arm, but she did not until Clara shooed her away, pointing the direction the ladies where to go in. Reluctantly, Alice released him. He felt chilled as she walked away and he was struck by urge to call her back. Putting aside the strange feelings and thoughts of Alice, Tarrant pretended to go along with McTwisp and the others, but as soon as Clara wasn't looking, he slid close to a doorway that was guarded by a white knight statue, depressed the left ear of the horse, and fell back into the wall.

Mirana's reason for disappearing was a mystery, but not where she disappeared to. There was a secret garden hidden away behind the weeping willow grove off to the side of the Topiary Gardens. One had to know it was there in order to see it. Most who entered the garden saw only a door guarded by the Snapdragons, who were not fond of anyone passing through their portal uninvited. If one should manage to get through the door unbitten and unscolded, one would find themselves back in the Topiary Gardens on the opposite side of the Weeping Willow Grove. However, if one were to walk around behind the Snapdragons and pass through the door that way, one would then find themselves in Mirana's private garden. The Snapdragons blinked sleepily at Tarrant as he passed by them. They never paid him any attention when he came- they knew he was allowed to enter from the either side.

The Garden was not the pristine, alabaster environment one might expect the White Queen to seek sanctuary in; it was quite the opposite. It was a feral land, wild and tangled, very dark and uninviting. The darkness was broken apart only by the vividly colored plants and animals that inhabited the Garden. There was no white in the Garden unless Mirana was visiting and she preferred it this way.

He found her sitting by the black lagoon whose banks looked like jagged teeth. Feeling suddenly shy, Tarrant stepped behind a tree made entirely of vines and took a moment to studyin her. Time, he knew, had changed him greatly; his hair, his clothes, and certainly his mind. But Time, he realized as he took in her folded form, had not changed her one bit. It was as though she had been expertly preserved while all of Underland succumbed to the ravages of Iracebeth's rule. From her hair to her shoes, she looked exactly the way she looked on the Shatterky Day, the last time he had seen her. Tarrant shooed away the intrusive branch of the vine tree that tried to lift his hat off of his head and stepped out from the tree. Quietly, he approached her, taking in every detail of her. His eyes were caught on her familiar dress and in a detached sort of way he recalled the making of that dress and all the years it took to properly design and produce the gown. And then suddenly, the reason for making that dress leaped out at him, startling him with a rather tragic realization- it was her wedding dress that she wore and she had been wearing it ever since the Horunvendush Day. _Suspended in Time_, he thought sadly. _Like a butterfly suspended in amber; forever perfectly beautiful and forever trapped._

If Mirana was aware of his presence, she refused to acknowledge him and remained in an upright fetal position, hugging her knees tightly to her chest.

"Mira?" Her teenage nickname tickled her ears but she remained unmoved.

"Mirana?" Tarrant crouched beside her and touched her shoulder gingerly with two fingers. Her skin was chilly. "We have our Champion. Alice is here and all be set right again tomorrow. Alice is-"

She turned to him then, looking at him directly with great blank dark eyes. "Yes, Alice," she smiled in that too-perky manner. "Alice is finally the right size, isn't she? The right size for everything now. Wouldn't you agree?"

Tarrant frowned. "Yes," he said slowly, trying to decipher the hidden meaning in her words. "I suppose so. But-"

"She is undecided, you know." Mirana returned to staring at the inky waters beneath her feet.

"Undecided?"

"On whether or not she wishes to be my Champion."

"Oh." Tarrant felt a strange pang of jealousy when Mirana referred to Alice as her Champion. That was a title he felt should belong to him even if he couldn't slay the Jabberwocky.

"If she chooses not to, this is naught for usal."

"She will, Mirana. She's Not Quite Alice, but she's very, very close to being Alice. I just know it!" His childlike exuberance and unwavering faith in Alice bubbled out of him naturally. If he had had an inkling about Mirana's feelings towards Alice, he surely would have chosen his words more carefully. "She's almost got her muchness back completely. Every time I see her, she's found a bit more of it."

"You seem to know a great deal about her muchness." Mirana was looking him again with eyes as black as the lagoon. Tarrant opened his mouth to protest the unfairness of her accusatory glare then closed it again when no words came out. He did not understand at all why she was so furious with him. Everything had come to pass thus far the way they had planned before being separated on the Shatterky Day, except Alice had taken longer to return. Surely Mirana did not blame him for that!

Tarrant blinked and found her eyes were their lovely chocolate brown once more and he relaxed a bit as he saw the Mirana he knew returning. He reached out to touch her face, but as soon as his fingers touched her cheek she jumped up abruptly and ran to the garden door. At the door, she pirouetted to face him and smiled at him as she would to any other courtier. "You'll excuse me, dear Hatter." He had never heard such a formal tone directed at him from her before. "Supper will be ready very soon and I must change clothes. You know what a state Thackery gets in when one is late to supper."

He blinked again and she was gone. Tarrant sat there for a long moment, trying to grasp what was going on and what he might have done to cause her to act this way toward him. But he no more knew the answer to his questions than he knew why a raven was like a writing desk. And, feeling very lost and alone, he decided to seek out Alice's friendship after supper and see if she could shed any light on the matter.

* * *

It had been ages since a real dinner party had been held in Marmoreal's walls. Granted the extravagance of past parties was absent, still the gathering of old friends sharing good food was something that had been sorely missed.

Alice found Tarrant standing outside of the dining room, leaning against the wall and looking downcast. His eyes were no longer green but a deep marine blue. Alice had never in her life seen anyone look so sad. Without thinking, she pulled him into an embrace as though a hug could somehow alleviate his pain. The contact, however, seemed to make everything worse, for as soon as Alice touched him, he began to babble in a language she could not understand. Outlandish? Perhaps. She was not familiar enough with the Underlandian language to know. As the words gushed out faster, his fingers became caught in her hair, sharply tugging on it. Alice grimaced and pulled back to untangle her locks.

"Tarrant," she called in the manner that had always snapped him out of his stupors before. He looked up at her, eyes glowing amethyst. The tone of his voice became darker, but without trace of the Scottish brogue that was present when had he told her of the Horunvendush Day. She called his name again, but he did not respond. The peaks and valleys of his speech intensified and his eyes faded to a deep mauve as he stared through her. Alice grabbed his face between her hands, trying to calm him, trying force him to actually see her, but he struggled against her, shaking his head violently.

Alice took a small step backwards, frightened by this unfamiliar mood and unsure of what she should do or what he might do. Then suddenly, a pale delicate hand with wine colored nails reached around her shoulders and lightly touched its palm to the Hatter's fiery cheek with it thumb pressed against his lips. Immediately, he was soothed and quiet. The moment his eyes returned to their natural color, the lovely hand fell away. Alice turned to follow Tarrant's stare and found herself looking into the eyes of the White Queen. The Queen held the Hatter's gaze for only moment, then opened the door to the dining room and gestured for them to enter.

"We mustn't be late," the Queen said. The stark contrast of her flat, emotionless tone against her graceful, fairy-like movements startled Alice a bit. "Thackery will have our heads if we are." As she passed by them, her skirts brushed against Tarrant and he could not help but notice that she had not changed clothes at all.

* * *

The dinner party was not quite as jovial as past ones had been. The battle that was to come weighed heavily on everyone's mind and everyone desperately wanted to know if Alice was to be their Champion, yet no one dared to bring the matter up. So the joyful bantering and laughing was strangely hollow as the party goers tried to keep their spirits high. The typical life of such parties who could bring real joy to even very serious matters sat oddly silent next to the White Queen, repeatedly stirring his soup and adding salt to it without eating. Tarrant spoke when he was spoken to or conversed halfheartedly with Alice alone. Mallymkun's gaze shifted between her dearest friends, immensely worried about what would become of them after the Frabjous Day. The facade of the White Queen held steady throughout the dinner as she chatted and joked with the refugees from her sister's court and even with Alice. It was only with the Hatter that she did not exchange as so much as a single word. Only Mallymkun and Chessur noticed this, for they, along with Thackery, were the only ones who knew of the secret between the Queen and her Hatter.

As the meal concluded and everyone passed their plates down until they were all stacked haphazardly around their feet, Mirana rose and tapped her silver fork to her china tea cup with high ting-a-ling, subduing the party's chatter. "Friends," she said in a sing-song voice and wide smile, "The Frabjous Day is nearly upon us and we will be tested further than ever before, but it will be the final test." Applause followed her words and she lifted her hands higher to quiet the adulation. "You have fought the good fight and have well-earned a peaceful, nightmare-less slumber before the Promised Day. Within in these walls you are safe, but we must not underestimated the treachery of which my sister is capable- a night attack is not beneath her. To further ensure the safety of all within Marmoreal, the sleeping arrangements have been changed. The Army will be in the rooms in the outer wing as an added wall of protection while the rest of us remain in the Inner Wing. You are free to choose from any of the room around my chamber. Each room is a single room, save one." Her dark gaze, slightly blacker than before, fell on Alice. "It will be up to you to choose who must share a room." The Queen's penetrating gaze and her words felt to Alice as if they were meant to be a test or a challenge. But she did not know what the test or challenge could be. It must have something to with being the Champion of Underland, but she could not figure out how that was related to a room. Finally, the Queen looked away and Alice was able to breath again.

The dinner party dispersed to seek out their rooms almost immediately. Alice followed McTwisp, expecting Tarrant to be behind her, but, as they exited the room, out of the corner of her eye she saw that the Hatter had cornered the Queen as she tried to leave the room. Ordinarily, Alice would not have hung back to intrude upon another's conversation, but the exchange seemed odder than others she had encountered in Underland thus far. The Hatter and the Queen, Alice had assumed, were friends. She knew he had been her hatter before the reign of the Red Queen and that Tarrant was fiercely loyal to her and her restoration to power. However, the conversation they were engaged in did not speak of friendship. They seemed highly antagonist toward each other. The Hatter's eyes were yellow and she could hear his Scottish brogue though she could not clearly understand his words. The Queen was not her effervescent self and she was not smiling; her expression was absolutely blank. If there was any resolution to their obvious conflict Alice was not there to see it for she was sharply stabbed in the foot by a put-off Mallymkun who insisted that she come along and choose her room. By the time, Alice made it to the Inner Wing all the single rooms had been taken and she was left alone in a very large room, feeling more confused by the moment. It didn't take long for the emptiness of the space to get to her and, in effort to silence the nagging demands of her mind to wake up, Alice decided to try to find the Hatter.

The halls of Marmoreal only enhanced the dreamlike state Alice was convinced that she was in. The pristine white of the marble mingled with the silver moonlight and staring at it caused her mind to wander. Her lips hummed a song that she could only vaguely remember hearing once upon a time.

"_So close to reaching that famous happy ending... almost believing this was not pretend and now you're beside me and look how far we've come..."_

She did not realize how far she had wandered until she very nearly slammed into the White Queen herself, yet the Queen did not seem to notice.

"What a lovely melody, Alice," the Queen smiled, all light and air. Whatever the trouble was with the Hatter seemed to have been resolved.

"Thank you," the girl replied, relieved to discover that the lovely lady was herself again. Despite her odd mannerisms, Alice found her to be the most normal person she had met in Underland and it was somewhat comforting to be around someone more like herself.

"What is that song?"

At this, Alice frowned. "I don't know," she admitted sheepishly. "I've never heard it before."

"Never heard it before?" the Queen sounded amused. "Then how could you be humming it?"

Alice shrugged, feeling very young and foolish next to the royal woman. "I don't know," she said again. "I cannot recall ever hearing it before it. I simple know it."

"Ah." The Queen's expressions and demeanor never changed, never faltered, but her eyes became dangerously dark and it occurred to Alice that the woman was acquainted with the song. "The song you hum is a beautiful one indeed, Alice. Very moving and romantic." Her sweet smile widened and her gaze became blacker still. "Do not hum or sing it in these halls ever again."

Alice stared numbly at the spot the Queen vanished from, unable to make head or tails of the bizarre command. Then, in that moment, Alice understood that the good Queen was as mad as the Hatter and the Hare and the vanishing Cat.

* * *

Night had finally fallen in Underland, but there was still a very long time to go until the Frabjous Day was upon them. This night, Alice learned from the Tweedles, was to be the longest night in Underland, though they could not agree on why. The young woman found herself out one of Marmoreal's many balconies after a fruitless search for the Hatter. She gazed at the Heavens, contemplating everything and nothing all at once. This was how he discovered her.

"Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?" Tarrant inquired as he quietly approached her from behind. His hat was tucked safely under his arm.

Alice smiled, delighted that he had found her. "Let me think about it."

He turned slightly so that he could clearly see her face. Mirana had told him that Alice was still undecided on whether or not she would be their Champion and he was hoping that he could encourage her in the right direction. "You know what tomorrow is, don't you?" he asked softly.

Alice frowned. This was not what she wanted to discuss with him. "Frabjous Day. How could I forget?" She shook her head. "I wish I'd wake up."

His gaze fell to the balcony's guardrail. It was very disheartening to learn that she still did not believe that what was happening was very real. "You still believe this is a dream? Do you?"

"Of course. This has all come from my own mind," she stated matter-a-factly.

A strange sensation pricked his heart at her words. He cast a sidelong glance at her pretty face and felt a deep sadness wash over him. "Which would mean I'm not real." _Mirana doesn't want me_, he thought allowing himself a moment of self-pity. _And Alice doesn't believe I'm real._ _What will become of me after tomorrow?_

"I'm afraid so." And she was afraid it was so, very afraid. More than anything she wished him to be real. But there was nothing to be gained by believing that fantasy was reality. "You're just a figment of my imagination. I would dream up someone half-mad."

"Yes, yes," he said bemusedly. "But you would have to be half-mad to dream me up."

"I must be then," she laughed. A shadow passed over her features. "I'll miss you when I wake up." The words startled her a bit for she did not mean to say them out loud. A flush kissed her cheeks when she dared to look at him again.

He only stared at her sadly.

* * *

Mirana walked down the empty corridors with deliberate intent, having abandoned her gliding gait. After dinner and another less than pleasant encounter with Tarrant, she had gone to speak with the trees and found her friend, Ailbhe. After speaking with the dove, she realized how silly and petty she was being in her poor treatment of Tarrant. She needed to find him and apologize for her dreadful behavior. _How childish I am_, she scolded herself. _I am behaving no better than Iracebeth when Stayne doesn't return her affection in the manner she wishes him to. Tarrant is not Stayne. He is too loyal, too true, to forsake his vows. And he has never given me reason to believe he might ever do so._

She caught a glimpse of his bright hair as she rounded a corner. She was about to go out onto the balcony when she stopped abruptly and gasped silently, taken aback by the sight that greeted her. There stood Alice with him, her arms wrapped tightly about his left arm, as he rested his cheek against her blond head. For several moments, Mirana could not move as her mind was sent reeling. Then a singular thought stood out at her in the midst of the maelstrom- he hadn't been wearing his wedding ring, not at any time since his return to Marmoreal. She never took in account the many reasons why he might not be wearing the jewelry nor the fact that she did not wear her own ring; she only took into account one reason: Alice.

Something dark and unpleasant gurgled around the edges of her person as she watched Alice. It gnawed at her mind, urging it to consider sinister things. And it was those sinister things that snapped Mirana back into the White Queen's persona. She could not, under any circumstance, jeopardize her chance at regaining the crown from Iracebeth. Whether she liked it or not, Alice was the only one who could save them and for that the girl had to be alive and willing to fulfill her destiny.

"Chessur wanted me to ask you if you had chosen a room yet," she heard Alice say to him. "I believe he wants to room you."

"He wants my hat," Tarrant replied without humor. "I had forgotten all about the room arrangements."

_But you have a room already,_ Mirana thought, crestfallen that he did not seem to remember. _You've always had a room here. _

"There is an extra bed in my room," Alice offered.

"You drew the short straw then?" he laughed.

"I wasn't quick enough to get another."

"Thank you, Alice," he told her politely. "But I don't know that I'll be able to sleep much tonight."

Mirana heard silence, then, a disappointed voice, "It will be there if you want it." She couldn't bare to wait to hear his response if he had one and she fell away from the balcony. A terrible thought struck her as she watched them: all this time, she had thought that her exile was her punishment for her selfishness and irresponsibility that led to the loss of the crown and that once Alice slayed the Jabberwocky her punishment would be lifted. But she understood now that this was not so. The crown would not be hers again without a price, a sacrifice. To regain the crown, she would lose her husband. Her punishment would continue long after the Frabjous Day.

* * *

"What were you doing before you followed McTwisp back to Underland?"

Alice looked up at Tarrant with a small smile. As she told him about her father, her mother, her sister, and her arranged marriage to Hamish, she grew bold enough to slip an arm about his waist. Tarrant stiffened slightly at the change of position, but relaxed almost immediately. There was a great comfort in her closeness. He had not realized how much he missed the contact of another person until he had it again. As Alice spoke of her previous life, he could not help but think that she reminded him greatly of someone.

"Have you decided how to avoid marrying Hamish?" he asked when she was finished telling her story.

"I fell down a rabbit hole and that was a start I suppose, but I have no idea what to do once I wake up."

"You should find someone else to marry," he informed her in all seriousness. "Someone you love even if the whole of your world would be against it."

Alice regarded him inquisitively. There was something in his tone that belied a greater knowledge of this form escape than he was letting on. "Would that work?"

"Absolutely."

"You sound so sure."

"I am."

He said no more and did not intend to. There was a distant haze in his eyes as though his mind was far away.

"How?" she prompted.

"Because you remind me so much of Mirana." The haze turned to a mist and that heart-breaking forlorn look overtook his features.

Alice bit her bottom lip as guilt welled up within her. She had forgotten about finding this Mirana again, forgotten her vow to herself to fulfill her promise, and worse still, she did not want to find Mirana at all, afraid that she might take her Hatter from her. "I'm sorry, Hatter," she said, her voice tinged with regret.

"Hmm? What about?"

"I haven't even begun to look for Mirana."

"Why would you?" His voice began to sound as far away as his gaze.

Alice frowned. "Because you asked me to."

"Did I?"

"Yes, back at the tea party before you threw me across the river on your hat. Don't you remember?"

"Mirana?"

"Yes."

"There is no Mirana."

"What?"

Tarrant turned in her arm and stared at her. His whole being seemed to be swathed in shades of blue. "There is no Mirana. There is only the White Queen."

Alice gaped at him. Finally she said, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

He turned away from her again and sighed. "Neither do I, Alice."

* * *

" _In sorrow known, the white queen walks and the night grows pale. Stars of lovingness in her hair- needing unheard, pleading one word. So sad her eyes, she cannot see..." -White Queen, Queen_

* * *

_A very special thank you to Karibbean for idea regarding Mirana's wedding dress. ;D **Reviews always help encourage the next chapter. Mahalo for reading and reviewing. :D**_


	17. A Game of Cat and Mouse

_AN: Ooo, wow, long time no update. World Cup fever... I hit a bit of writer's block and some health issues too . And I do not want to put half-hearted chapters. So I made this chapter nice and long. I hope it hasn't been so long that everyone's forgotten about this. _

_Reviews are always appreciated and very helpful. Mahalo for reading and to everyone reviewing. :D_

_To Cupcake-Logic: I'm so glad you are enjoying this and hope you'll continue to like Tarrant/Mirana. :D_

_And to Tarrant: I'm am thrilled that you and Mirana are reading and enjoying this. Though I have to admit I'm getting some help with your story from two of your associates- a little white mouse and a vanishing cat. ;)_

**Chapter 12: A Game of Cat and Mouse**

"_How did thee fare? What have thee seen? The mother of the willow green- I called her name... And 'neath the window have I stayed, I loved the footsteps that she made and when she came... White queen, how my heart did ache and dry my lips no words would make. So still I wait..." -White Queen, Queen_

It took him quite a long time to find her for she had hidden herself away in a corner behind a door in a manner that was not like her. "Mally?" Chessur wafted into the narrow space and cocked his head off his shoulders to look at her quizzically. "Mally, are you... crying?" He braced himself, prepared to disappear the moment she lunged at him with her hatpin for the insulting query, but she did not move, nor deny her tears. Very un-Mally like, indeed.

"She's ruining everything, Chess," the little Dormouse's voice was so quiet, so small, that the Cat almost didn't catch her words. "She's ruining everything!"

"Who's ruining what now?" He curled up on top of his head with more than a sneaking suspicion of whom she was speaking. Still, it was best not to assume...

"Alice!" The name burst from her in an irate, yet mournful wail.

Chessur frowned and flicked his tail in a nervous manner. "And what exactly is Alice ruining?"

Mallymkun glared at him, livid that he should have the luxury of being so oblivious and nonchalant as the world fell to further ruin."Him." She buried her face against her folded arms, trying to rub out the tears. After a moment she collected herself enough to lift her head again. "_She's_ ruining Tarrant for Mirana," she explained in a bitter, clipped tone, not expecting the Cat to understand such sensitive matters of the heart. "She's doing everything she can to pull him away from Mirana and he's letting her do it!" Angrily, she scratched away the tears that managed to fall to her cheeks. "All the while, Mirana sits idly by watching it all happen."

Chessur was unimpressed by this logic and female emotion. "I don't think Tarrant could be so easily swayed," he shrugged casually. "Not after all this time."

Mallymkun jumped up, punctuating her words with impassioned gesturing. "I've seen the way he looks at her. It's the same way he used to look at Mirana at the beginning of it all. Now he looks at _Alice _that way!"

This did not move the Cat either. "You may need your eyes checked, Mally; you're seeing things." At the sight of her dropping back to the floor and curling up in a ball of self-pity, Chessur popped his head back on straight, eyes blazing in irritation. "Stop wallowing, you melodramatic little mouse!" he huffed. "Tarrant has always been loyal to Mirana- annoyingly so if you ask me. 'White Queen this and White Queen that'. 'We must restore the White Queen' and 'I've been contemplating things that begin with M'. Over and over for all these years. Why he'd have driven us all mad with his talk of her if we weren't already mad!"

It was the Dormouse's turn to be unimpressed. At her disdainful glare, he added, "Does Alice begin M, Mally? Though I admit it's been awhile since I checked, I do believe that it's Mirana that begins with M, not Alice."

"It's different now Chess," Mallymkun shook her head, her emotion now tucked under her belt. "Alice is between them; that's why he won't speak to her and she won't speak to him."

Chessur, in repose, studied the mouse intently, as a worried gnawing nagged at his conscience. There was at least _some _truth to Mallymkun's concern. He could not turn a blind eye to the tension between the Queen and Hatter since Alice had returned. He may not get involved in politics ever and he may be loathe to get involved with things of a romantic nature, but it was a bit different when the romantic things involved two of his dearest friends.

"I hate her."

The words startled the Cat from his thoughts. "Come again?"

"I hate her, Chessur," Mallymkun's voice was dark and steady. "I think I'd much rather live under bloody Big Head's thumb than be indebted to Alice."

"You don't mean that, Mally!"

"She's supposed to be Mirana's Champion, but Alice has already betrayed her." The mouse turned grave, black eyes on him. "What if she expects to stay here? What then? He's been through so much, lost so much. He deserves his happiness, but Alice will ruin any chance of that."

It was a rare moment that Chessur had no reply. Then, very slowly, that familiar grin began to stretch over his features. "Well, in that case, we'll just have to meddle a bit the affairs of others, won't we? Remind them of the past, perhaps?"

Hope sparked, then fizzled in Mallymkun's eyes. "Mirana made me swear I wouldn't."

Chessur swatted a paw at her as if to say "who keeps promises". He rolled over in the air, playing catch his head."Yes, and Tarrant made me swear the same. However..." Mallymkun's ears pricked up at the sly tone of his voice. "I never swore anything to Mirana..."

A slow smile pulled the corners of the mouse's mouth upward. "And I never swore anything to Tarrant."

Chessur wrapped his tail around his cohort as they conspired together. Some half hour later, they were seen scampering off down the corridor in opposite directions, each wearing an impossibly large Cheshire grin.

* * *

The Queen was in the throne room, half-listening as Sir Willard theorized possible battle plans if Alice did not step up as Champion. Just as Mirana was about to lose patience with the White Knight, a pair of strong hands gripped her shoulders from behind the throne. She was more startled to see the scarred, thimble-tipped fingers on her pale skin than by the gesture itself. When she tried to twist around to look at the Hatter, his hands prevents from doing so. Pressing his lips against her ear, he murmured, "Follow me," and released her, allowing the chilled air of the expansive room to wrap itself around her. Mirana jumped up, surprising her court, and whipped around. But Tarrant was nowhere to be found. Gathering her skirts up, she quickly exited the throne room, catching a glimpse of him as she did. Always a step behind and never seeming to gain any ground on him, Mirana followed him through twists and turns, up stairs, down stairs, and finally, out into the Topiary Garden. Moments before he disappeared into the Hedge Maze, he looked back over his shoulder to make sure she was still behind him. Their eyes met for the briefest moment and Mirana gasped at the very strange, very unfamiliar look in his eyes. The young queen found herself standing alone in the middle of the hedge maze with a strong feeling of deja vu.

* * *

"_Tarrant? Tarrant, where are you?"_

_A delighted chortle giggled from behind a hedge. "Follow me!"_

"_You're impossible!" Mirana couldn't help but grin as she hiked up her skirts and ran after his voice. He managed to always stay a step ahead as he led her through the green maze, finally disappearing through a rounded door hidden behind a statue. The door put them at the edge of the Tulgey Woods. Mirana saw Tarrant's coat disappear into the forest. She followed as best she could, the edges of her skirt getting caught on the underbrush and taking back from any ground she gained on him for Tarrant did not stay on the paths cut through the woods. _

_When she finally managed to fight her way out of the trees that seemed to be aiding his escape, she found him waiting rather impatiently for her by the little cottage on the edge of the Hightopp village. Inside, a grand tea was waiting. From that day forth, they met at the cottage every chance they could to play house. Mirana was absolutely delighted to cook and clean, something she was never allowed to do at Marmoreal. Taking care of the little place gave her a sense of accomplishment and usefulness, and Tarrant, naturally, made everything into a game. Their days of playing house as husband and wife passed blissfully until the White Knights stormed through Tulgey Woods searching for her some five months later. _

_She was tending the little garden they had started that spring, when Mirana caught a glimpse of Sir Willard. Tarrant saw him, too, took her hand, and pulled her inside the house. They stood in the center of the little house hugging each other, and praying that the Knights would pass by without finding them. They both feared the Queen's wrath if she should ever discover what they had done to undermine her plans for Mirana._

_Ultimately, it was Bayard who found them and turned them over to Sir Willard. The Knight came into the house with a face as grim as death. He did not seem to notice that the little Princess was clinging to her hatter in a way that little princesses should not cling to their hatters. The instant his gaze met hers, a bone-chilling numbness gripped her heart and Mirana knew that something terrible had happened at home._

"_You must return to Marmoreal at once, Princess," Sir Willard told her, a darkness saturated his usual baritone. _

"_What's happened?"_

"_It's your father."_

_Mirana did not gasp in horror. She did not cry in despair. She merely released Tarrant and headed for the door of the cottage. At the door, it occurred to her that her mate had not followed. With a slightly glazed look in her dark eyes the only indication that she had understood the severity of the Knight's news, she held her hand out to him, lightly calling, "Ride with me, Tarrant." And he obliged. The duo returned to Marmoreal in time to speak with the King one final time before his death. That last conversation would forever disturb Mirana for her father suggested that his illness was not natural and that her mother had a hand in it. Then, just before his breathed his last breath, Abban informed them that he had discovered their little secret. Such was not the way, Mirana wished to have her beloved father find out about her marriage, but he gave them his blessing and admitted that he could pass peacefully knowing that it was Tarrant who would be watching over her and not Stayne. _

_Mirana did not cry; not when her father eyes no longer saw her; not when his hand went cold in her grip. Neither did she cry at his wake or funeral, though Iracebeth shed enough melodramatic tears for them both. No, Mirana was quiet and introspective about the whole matter and, Tarrant knew, very suspicious. Then came the incident in the kitchen nearly two months later. Her mother had requested Sir Willard's company for tea. The Queen had no fond feelings for the childhood friend of her late husband who was convinced that the King did not die of natural causes and was persistent on investigating the matter. Thus, the invitation alone sparked Mirana's paranoia and she closely trailed her mother through the shadows. Iracebeth was there that day; Iracebeth had been a permanent fixture in the castle since their father's passing. The mother and daughter were very quietly going about fixing tea when Mirana peeked into the kitchen and his behind the kitchen door. This was wrong- neither her mother nor her sister ever raised a hand to do any sort of work as such was beneath them and they were pulling ingredients from cabinets whose contents were never used for tea, yet Mirana could not see precisely what it was they were pouring into only one cup. _

_When the tray was ready, Miriam demanded that Iracebeth take the tray, but Iracebeth did not wanto to and was vocal in her protest as always. She finally accepted the task, but only did so under some unspoken threat from their mother. Unfortunately, Iracebeth was not the most graceful of people and so ineptly picked up the tray. The way she carried it was so awkward that she had to put it down and pick it back up. In doing so, she turned the tray, making it impossible to tell which was the "special" cup of tea. Mirana cringed at the torrent of scorn and ridicule that poured from the Queen over Iracebeth's mistake. Her sister's face grew red with both embarrassment and hurt as she tried to rectify the situation by turning the tray back. Greatly vexed, Miriam finally yanked the tray away from her eldest girl and stormed out of the kitchen with Iracebeth following behind her looking like a whipped puppy._

_The tea party was held behind closed doors so all Mirana could do was pace worriedly in Tarrant's workroom and wait for the news that Sir Willard was deathly ill. Bizarrely, it was not the White Knight that fell fatally ill that night; it was the Queen. Evidently, Iracebeth in her flustered attempted to fix her error had not turned the tray back the correct way after all. At a quarter past ten, Mirana was called to her mother's bed chamber. The little princess had never seen her mother look so frail and fragile before. Beads of sweat sprinkled the Queen's pale brow and the space of skin between her nose and mouth. In her weakened state, her fully hideous nature was exposed and she was all the more terrifying. Mirana said nothing as her mother beckoned her sit by her side. As the Queen began to babble on about the truth of her dark nature, her feelings regarding her husband and children, Mirana's mind could not reconcile the memories from her childhood of a kind and loving mother with the cold-hearted woman before her._

"_Do you need something, Mother?" Mirana asked as though her mother's state was not unusual, the moment her mother ceased talking. "Tarrant is waiting for me."_

"_You ungrateful little beast," Miriam spat at her. "I may be dying and all you can think about is that dreadful hatter." When her daughter said nothing in response, the Queen continued on, "I swear, it would put me in the grave her and now if you even thought of marrying that creature."_

_A peculiar, indescribable look overtook the girl's face and Mirana looked at her mother slyly. "Do you promise?" she murmured sweetly under her breath._

"_What?" Miriam jerked a suspicious eyebrow upward and glared at her daughter._

"_I said, do you want a cool rag?"_

"_No, no. I'll be fine," the Queen swatted at an imaginary fly. A look that begged for flattery sparked in her eyes. "How worried is everyone? Terribly? Do they think I'm very close to death?"_

"_Yes," Mirana said blandly. "They are afraid that the Underland will lose both of their regents in a very short space of Time." She watched her mother's expression with great scrutiny._

"_Good," her mother grinned triumphantly. " Then imagine how overjoyed they'll be when I miraculously recovery. Now be a good girl and get me the antidote from the cabinet."_

_Mirana rose obediently with a petulant frown as she realized her mother was playing the deathbed card for sympathy. _Despicable! _She thought feeling righteous indignation well up within her. As her hand touched the small crystal vial filled with amber fluid, her mother said, "I was livid with your idiot sister for changing the cups around. If she hadn't, it'd be Sir Willard who'd be dead by the hour's end, but this actually works out much better." She shot Mirana a warning glare. "But don't you dare tell her that, her head is too big as it is!"_

_The princess looked over her shoulder at her mother as her hand closed around the vial. There were a great many things she was being to understand about her and Iracebeth's upbringing. It was not a blissful childhood she had had after all, but rather a blissful indoctrination. "You were going to poison Sir Willard?"_

"_Yes, of course," the Queen snapped as thought she could understand how Mirana could be so stupid. "The people were to be told that it was suicide, naturally- he couldn't live with the guilt of murdering the king."  
_

"_Sir Willard did not murder Father." Mirana turned to cross the room and take the vial to her mother._

"_No, of course not, stupid girl!" Miriam laid a dramatic hand to her forehead."Someone had to take the blame; the Council would not be satisfied until a culprit was had. You don't really expect me to take the responsibility."_

_A very dark shadow settled in Mirana's eyes as her gaze settled on the amber liquid confined in its crystal prison. Suddenly she felt very cold, very... unfeeling._

_Tap... tip... tap... Each of her dainty footsteps echoed in her ears as she came closer to her mother. With each step the coldness in her core increased. _

"_Hurry up, Mirana!" _

_There was a slight dip in the floor that Mirana's foot purposely found. The vial fell from her loose grip and shattered upon the floor. The liquid soaked into the cherry wood floors, lost forever._

_Miriam stared enraged with mouth agog into the blank visage of her youngest daughter. "You little idiot! You're as bad as your great oaf of sister! Stupid, clumsy, and careless!" _

"_Oh my!" Mirana said without inflection or intonation. "I forgot that Iracebeth is the clumsy one and I am the graceful one." She stared at her mother with unblinking eyes. "After all the years you spent making sure we knew our place in life, how could I forget to be graceful. You made sure that we would hate each other." Mirana smiled strangely at her mother. "Now that I think about it, Iracebeth was much more graceful than I in the beginning, so much better at dancing and all that. But no matter how perfect her pirouettes or how dainty her foxtrot, you never spared a kind word on her. Yet for every trip and sloppy turn, you praised me. You literally chose who would be loved and who would not. What kind of mother does that?"_

_The Queen nearly growled as she rolled her eyes. "Clearly I chose the right daughter to be the air-headed little fool, if you've only just now figured that out. Iracebeth's known for a long time."_

"_Yes, I'm sure she has. That certainly explains why she treats me as she does. And it explains why she married that strange King of Hearts- she wanted to get away from you."_

_Miriam glared at her youngest daughter. With Mirana awakening to the truth it would surely set all her plans on end. Mirana was suppose to remain blithely unaware of the world beyond the end of her nose and marry Stayne, so that slowly, one by one, each independent kingdom would be melded into one massive domain: no more Heart or Black, Spade or Diamond Kingdoms. And now..._

"_I suppose I should go down to the kitchen and make another antidote," Mirana went on in a light, blithe voice. "What was the poison exactly, Mother dear?"_

"_Toadstools."_

"_Oh," Mirana's face fell with mock disappointment. "I was afraid of that."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Well, I'm afraid I won't be able to gather all the necessary ingredients in time."_

"_What do you mean? You haven't even gone down to the kitchen yet. Everything should already be there."_

"_Well, yes," Mirana said, sitting down next to her mother as though she had all the time in the world."But you well know what a ditz I am since you made me that way, so I am sure I will not be able to find what I need working within such a tight time frame. It takes a near twenty minutes to complete the antidote and there's only what, ten minutes left of the hour now?"_

"_You wouldn't dare. I'm your mother and queen!" Miriam was stunned, unable to believe what her "perfect" child was implying._

_Mirana's eyes turned black with anger. "You killed my father. I do not owe you the kindness of creating an antidote so that you can go about destroying Underland."_

"_If you don't make an antidote, I'll-" _

"_You'll what, Mother? Make Iracebeth the White Queen instead? It will a bit hard to do that after you've been entombed in the Mausoleum with Daddy." She smiled sweetly. "You chose wrong, Mother. I will rule Underland as Father wanted, not as you want." Mirana rose from the bed unmoved by the Queen's strangled cries of shock and anger. At the door, Miriam saw her daughter turn back, looking as though she might have had a change of heart. "Oh, and mother, I just want you to know before I go down to the kitchen and not find what I need for the antidote," the angelic smile that played upon her youngster's fair features made her mother realize just how much like her Mirana really was, "That your grandchildren," she pressed her lips against her mother's ear and tucked the sheets in gently around the queen, "will all bare the name Hightopp."_

_The next morning an extended period of mourning was declared throughout Underland and after that time, Mirana was crowned Queen on a day that was henceforth known as the Kiltikidik Day. On that day, which was celebrated every year, everyone wore white, drank milk, and only told white lies if they had to lie at all. Iracebeth came to the crowning, much to her younger sister's surprise. It pained Mirana greatly to have had the chance to have a pleasant relationship with her sister taken away from her. Though she tried to reach out in peace to Iracebeth the damage their mother had done to them was irreparable and they always reverted to the ways that had been ingrained in them. It was on the battlefield that Iracebeth demanded to greet her on her coronation day with nothing but malice to spew. It was to be expected that Iracebeth wanted the crown, demanded it back, claiming it was her birthright, and threatening to bring Mirana to ruin if she refused._

_Absolem viewed the meeting from the brim of Tarrant's hat and had only one ominous remark about the matter. "As it begins, so it will end."_

_The year ended, thus bringing to fulfillment the prophecy that Mirana would become Queen within the year. _

* * *

Night, it seemed, intended to go on forever if Time allowed. Try as she might, Alice could not sleep alone in the large austere room when she was used to the confined coziness of her bedroom at home. _Home..._ Alice remembered how long it had taken her to become accustomed to sleeping alone after Margaret had married Lowell. She still did not care for unoccupied space. Her thoughts drifted to her mother and Alice wondered, if by chance this truly was not a dream, how much time had passed in her world. Were they searching for her now? Had she fully disgraced the family? What scorn and criticism would be waiting for her if she returned?

Alice then allowed herself for the first time to entertain the idea that all of this very real. If Underland was real, would she even want to leave? After all, as strange and mad as this world was, she was understood here, admired even. No seemed to care what one wore; women as well as men held positions of authority. While indulging herself in such an impossible fantasy, she also allowed herself to really think about Tarrant and what he said about finding someone she truly loved to marry, thus avoiding marry Hamish and his proposal all together. How would they back home react to her announcing that Tarrant was her husband? Alice giggled at the thought that Hamish's delicate stomach might torment him over the matter. _Alice Hightopp._.. it didn't sound as strange as she thought it might. In fact, it caused her smile to turn into a full grin. Shaking her head, Alice rose from the bed and gave a dreamy half-twirl. _Mrs. Alice Hightopp_... Her reflection in the full-length mirror was that of silly girl with a head full of nonsense and it caused her to halt her spin abruptly, jerking her back to reality. _What am I thinking?_ She scolded herself. _Mrs. Hightopp? Where's my head? Marry the Hatter? What a positively mad idea! _No matter how she argued with herself that the notion was preposterous, doubt lingered. Perhaps it wasn't such a mad idea.

Alice stepped out onto the balcony, hoping that the majesty of Marmoreal would help clear her head. And even if the idea weren't so mad, she had no idea how the Hatter might react to such an idea. He could be permanently put off his tea at the suggestion and such a rejection, Alice was slow to admit, would wound her terribly.

_But he was the one to suggested the idea..._

Alice whipped around suddenly, her heart hammering in her chest. "Who's there?"

_It was his idea._

Tentatively, she peeked her head into the bedroom and looked around. There was no one there that she could see. "Chessur? Is that you? Come out now, you rotten feline!"

_Come to the mirror, silly girl._

Curiosity overcame caution and Alice approached the mirror that she had earlier caught herself twirling in. Her reflection caused her to gasp in surprise. In the mirror was a version of herself in brightly colored and slightly mismatched clothes. Her face was brightly painted in shades of blue and pink and from beneath a lavender top hat cascaded her golden curls tied in pigtails. Awestruck at the image, Alice reached out to touch the mirror and her strange reflection did the same. Her eyes widened when her fingertips touched not glass but the fingertips of herself. Her reflection nodded encouragingly. _Slay the Jabberwocky, don't slay the Jabberwocky; it's all the same. But stay in Underland. _

Dazed, Alice shook her head. "I can't. I can't remain asleep forever."

Her reflection giggled. _The Hatter is you key to avoiding Hamish, my silly self. Take his suggestion._

"You're me?"

_No, you're me._

"That's impossible!"

_You must be me in the past! My, how silly I was!_

A loud rumble from outside jarred Alice's attention away from the bizarre mirror. When she looked back she saw only herself. Her plain, confused-looking self.

* * *

Tarrant paced the Gardens of Marmoreal for the umpteenth time with an empty expression on his face. He had given up long ago trying to understand Mirana's odd ways and his conflicting feelings where Alice was concerned, but found that the repetitive motion of stomping back and forth through the Gardens as though stomping grapes drummed from his head comparison thoughts between Alice and Mirana. Exhaustion was creeping into his subconscious now; the torment and stress he'd endured at Salazen Grum, endured through the years, was taking its toll. He wasn't sure how long he'd be able to stay awake, yet he was afraid to go to sleep; afraid of the dreamland that might await him- a dreamland without Mirana. Tarrant's mouth twisted into a frown. He had dozed off earlier, leaning against a marble pillar outside of the throne room. In slumber, Mirana had not been waiting for him as she always had before. He had searched and searched for her and finally found... Alice. Involuntarily, he shuddered at the recollection. Alice had been where Mirana had always been, looking at him with her great eyes shining with emotion that he'd only ever seen in his queen's eyes. It disturbed and confused him greatly.

"Hatter?" A small voice called his name. Tarrant halted his gait and looked down at the white mouse at his feet.

"Yes, Mally?"

"Mirana's looking for you."

A pained grimace marred his face and he resumed pacing with more vigor. "Mally, I told you-"

"Hatter," she interrupted with great urgency and pointed to the Garden's entrance.

Though agitated and depressed, he looked anyway and there framed by lush green vines was his queen standing with a forlorn look on her pale face. His mouth twisted into a crooked smile. "Thank you, Mally," he whispered as he started to jog toward the woman in white. But Mirana did not wait for him to catch up with her. Instead, she darted ahead, always one step ahead, looking back at him sadly to make sure he was following. At the entrance to Hedge Maze, he lost sight of her completely, but heard her sweet voice call, "Follow me."

* * *

"Well," said Chessur, appearing under Mallymkun and lifting her off of the ground. "We've done all that we can do without breaking any promises. Technically, speaking of course. Now they have to do the rest."

"Do you remember when Mirana set up her court?" the dormouse asked suddenly. Chessur understood that she was trying to distract herself from worry by recalling happier times.

"Of course," the Cat grinned devilishly, "The council thought her mad to dismantle her mother's experienced court right away and appointing a motley crew comprised of a Dormouse with a penchant for stabbing people, a vanishing Cat, a white rabbit with Time issues, a Dodo, a pair of double-talking boys, a blood hound, and a March Hare with an obsession with silverware. Of course, making a mad hatter her most trusted confident, didn't set too well either."

"They did think her mad, didn't they?"

"Yes, though her choices were no more mad than theirs. Do you remember that Councilman who insisted on wearing a hat that looked like a chicken, feathers and all?"

This thought made Mallymkun finally crack a smile. "I do. He wanted Tarrant to make him a hat from a gander too."

"The only time I've seen Tarrant turn down a chance to make a hat."

The Dormouse's smile faded. "That's what started it, all wasn't it?"

Chessur popped his head off in order to look her in the eyes. "Absolem said it began long before then. But I believe that's when Iracebeth began to gather her ammunition to overthrow Mirana."

Mally sighed. "As it began so it will end."

"So said Absolem."

"Alice wasn't here in the beginning," she mused aloud. "She shouldn't be here in the end."

"But she may be here in the end. We must take that into consideration." Chessur rolled his head up his arm and slid it back into place.

"If she is, then Absolem is wrong; it will not end as it began."

* * *

In the center of the Hedge Maze they found each other. Awkwardly staring at each other in surprise as realization dawned on them that they had been tricked by their conniving friends. She hadn't sought him and he hadn't sought her. Silence widened the space between them as each waited for the other to speak; both desperately wanting the other to give an indication that they were wanted. But no words were spoken. The air grew cold and unpleasant around them. The finally Mirana, with a look of heartbreak in her dark eyes, broke the standoff by turning to flee. Tarrant felt his heart go with her as though it were physically attached to her by an unseen thread. He tried to call her back, but found his throat and mouth had gone dry and hot. His voice had abandoned him and would not breathe life to words. Even his feet would not cooperate and unroot themselves so that he could go after her. In fact, exhaustion bound every limb, rendering him immobile. All he could do was sink to his knees and watch her go.

He tried once more to call her back.

"_My goddess, hear my darkest fear- I speak too late. It's for evermore that I wait... Dear friends, goodbye. No tears in my eyes... So sad, it ends as it began..." _


	18. Realizations and Reconciliations

_AN: Well, my friends, I thought with summer here this story would be finished by now. But, unfortunately, real life has an obnoxious way of screwing up my plans. I've finally found a doctor who figured out the source of my health issues since my blood sugars are now under control. It's as simple as a vertebrae being out of place. Seriously, if you've got health issues that doctor's can't find a reason for, look up upper cervical doctors. And no that does not have anything to do with lady parts. ;p_

_After corresponding briefly with a reviewer and coming across a couple of very interesting stories with Alice as a central character, I learned something interesting about Alice and my issue with her. You see, after reading the umpteenth summary for a Hatter/Alice story and seeing nothing but the same overdone idea, I realized that I don't hate Alice, I don't even dislike her. As it turns out it's the way too many people write her. She's been reduced to an annoying Mary-Sue and Tarrant's been reduced (far too often) to a rather pathetic mop of a character who's useless without Alice. Talk about emasculating the poor guy! If I can find a story that is truly well-written, gave Alice depth without taking her out of character, or interjecting random graphic sexual stuff (see taking Alice out of character) I wouldn't mind reading an Alice/Tarrant fic. I understand wanting to read the fluffy stuff and don't take issue with that so much. It just gets to be too much after wading through a desert of stories with the same repetitive, predictable plots. Just because a character is canon doesn't mean they can't be turned into Mary-Sues or Gary-Stus! 0_o _

_My apologies for the rant. Had to get it out. :p Now for a nice, long chapter.  
_

_Since it's been so very long since the last update, please, if you're still following this story in the least, drop me a review. Even just a simple :D will do. As always, mahalo for reading and reviewing._

"_Night of Nights" is a reference to Sir J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan, though not related._

**Chapter 13: Realizations and Reconciliations**

"_One more day before the storm! At the barricades of freedom when our ranks begin to form- will you take your place with me? The time is now, the day is here... One day more!" One Day More, Les Miserables _

When Alice saw the Queen floating up the stairs to her chambers, she never would have guessed that the young woman had just suffered an agonizing heartbreak. In fact, Alice never would have guessed the Queen suffered any emotions at all. But Alice did not bother to contemplate the white woman's ability to feel as her own mind was too full of nagging doubts and linger questions. It was one such doubt that provoked Alice to call to the Queen, though she almost didn't as she was unsure of how to voice her concern. In some dark corner of her memory, Alice seemed to very vaguely recall a special type of looking glass that was not at all like the ones she was accustomed to back home, yet the details of it escaped her. She wondered if this looking glass could possibly be responsible for the strange vision she saw in the mirror in her room.

"Your Majesty?"

The Queen looked down her with a strange smile as Alice's voice seemed to have frozen her. After a moment, she replied blandly, "Yes, Alice? Do you need something?"

The blonde grimaced with uncertainty. "I just have a question."

"Yes?" Mirana turned gracefully, gliding back down the stairs to the girl.

"The-" she bit her lower lip in thought as she tried to piece together a reasonable query, "Are there anything unusual about the mirrors in Marmoreal?"

The slightest frown pinched the White Queen's brow. "Not in Marmoreal, no."

"Anywhere in Underland?"

"Now that you mention it," A hand went to her dark lips in contemplation. It took her a while to find what she was looking for. "There are a very few unique looking glasses in Underland that are portals between worlds. But they are very few and impossible to find unless you know precisely where they are."

Alice's frown was far more pronounced than the Queen's. "Are you positive that there are none in Marmoreal."

Mirana nodded, very curious about what prompted this course of discussion. "Yes, quite. Alice? Has something happened?"

"I just thought that I saw myself in the mirror?"

An amused expression lit the Queen's eyes. "Aren't you supposed to see yourself when you look into a mirror?"

"Yes," Alice replied. She was beginning to distrust what she thought she saw, but forged on. "But the reflection I saw was not of me as I look now, but rather me as I have never looked before."

The Queen's bafflement of what Alice saw was genuine. She did not know what the girl spoke of until she realized what Alice must be going through. "Oh, Alice, exhaustion must be playing tricks on your mind, dear girl! You've been through so much since your arrival. Sleep is the only cure for it. Off to bed with you!" She made a shooing gesture intending to usher the girl upstairs.

Alice did not budge. Her frown deepened further. "There's just one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Do you know who Mirana is?"

The corner's of the Queens smile perceptively twitched. "Mirana?"

"Yes," Alice said, not missing the twitch. She watched the woman carefully. "Hatter asked me to find her for him. I promised I would, but I haven't any idea where to start looking. Do you know where she is? He said she would be here with you."

Mirana blinked several times as though she didn't quite trust that she had heard the girl correctly."I'm sure she'll turn up," she said gently. "Now go, Alice. You need rest." She watched as Alice ascended the stairs, looking slightly dazed and very tired. The moment she was out of sight, Mirana left the White Queen behind as she burst through the doors of the castle and ran back to the Hedge Maze as fast as her feet would carry her.

* * *

He was still there, kneeling in the spot where she had left him. He was tilted to one-side as though he were kneeling on the side of a very steep hill and there was an odd glazed looked in his pale eyes. He looked frozen with an expression Mirana didn't recognize until she was closer. Then it became clear that it was pain that was etched so vividly in his white face. She inhaled sharply at his disheveled appearance. He looked so much worse for wear that when he had first arrived. Tarrant didn't see her when she knelt in front of him. He didn't react to the touch of her palms on his cheek. It was only when she wrapped her arms gingerly around his neck that he seemed to awaken, letting out a groan of pain, exhaustion, and relief. Mirana lightened her touch on him, afraid of causing him more discomfort.

"You came back," he said weakly. His voice sounded thick and dry.

Mirana pulled back slightly from him and lovingly fluffed out his wild mane. "I am so sorry."

His smile was broken. "You came back. I knew you would. I knew you'd come back and you did. I've been waiting for you. Naughty." He struggled to raise a finger to touch her white curls.

She bit her lip to keep from crying over his battered state. "I heard you were looking for Mirana," she said almost shyly. "Alice didn't know where to find her, so I brought her to you."

His smile unhinged even more. "You're the just the right size," he said in admiration, though she didn't understand the source of the comment. "You're always just the right size." The comment drained his strength and he slumped against her.

Mirana struggled to lift him to his feet. Thin, though he was, he was still quite heavy for the young woman to lift with her own waning strength. The nearest entrance to the castle was also the furthest from the Queen's suite and she could not drag him all the way there by herself; Tarrant was in no condition to help himself for when he thought he was moving somewhat under his own will, he was really leaning more heavily against her. "I'm fine," he kept mumbling under his breath. "I'm fine, I am. I'm fine. Still in one piece..." At first, Mirana argued that he was not fine, but he said continued to say it in such a run-on, slurred manner that she quickly understood that he was slipping in and out of consciousness.

The typical bodies that busied themselves throughout the castle into the late night were nowhere to be found as everyone had retired to bed. Of course, the hallways of Marmoreal would be empty of creatures, now that Mirana needed one of them. The muscles of her arms screamed under the weight of the Hatter's body and the awkwardness of her grip on him. She was not the right size, as he had said. No, indeed. She was far too small, be of any use to him. But there was little choice other than to press on for she would not abandoned him to the cold marble floors; not even for a moment to get help. They were in the main hall now, close, but still so far from their destination. Before them still loomed the grand staircases, split in two for the east and west wings. The only way to the Queen's chamber was up. And the only way up was by stair. There was no way she could carry him up the stairs. No way at all. Just as Mirana was about to give into tears of frustration, she heard an all too familiar voice ring out in it's dulcet, silken tone, "Hatter? Oh, your majesty! What's wrong with him?"

_Alice!_ The Queen bit back a growl and a black retort by reminding herself that they needed Alice's allegiance for the Frabjous Day and insulting the girl would not sway her to their cause.

"He's fine," Mirana told her, unintentionally mimicking Tarrant's ramble.

"He doesn't look fine," Alice worriedly took the drooping Hatter's face into her small hands with such a tenderness that it ignited a terrible fire within the White Queen and caused a quaking within her that Alice mistook for Tarrant shuddering. "He should lie down immediately," The girl took over, placing Tarrant's free harm about her shoulders. She tried to lead him towards a chaise against the wall in between the split grand staircase. In doing so, she pulled the Hatter away from the Queen. "Are there doctors here? One should be sent for immediately." Alice put a hand against his forehead, first using her palm, then the back of her hand. "He feels feverish. He should be cooled with rags dipped in ice water. Thackery can bring me a bowl and I'll-"

"Alice!" The blunted reprimand was the closest Mirana had come to breaking the facade of the White Queen since the Horunvendush Day. As the startled blonde, peered around the Hatter at her, Mirana's mouth twisted from a scowl into a tight smile. "Alice," she said again, this time remembering to speak in peaceful, soothing tones. "Alice, remember, this is not the world you are used to; things are not done here in quite the same manner."

"Yes, of course," Alice murmured apologetically. She allowed the Queen to redirect them to the staircase, properly deferring as she should to the Queen's knowledge of her people and to her authority. She shifted the Hatter's weight so that she might gain a tighter hold on him. "What should we do then?"

Mirana, trying hard not to engage in a tug-of-war over him, dismissed her annoyance with Alice's referral to "we" and nodded toward the staircase. "He needs rest more than anything else in the world right now."

Alice nodded resolutely, clearly intending upon helping whether she was wanted or not. As the women carried the injured man up the stairs, Mirana's pulse quickened suddenly as she realized that he had stopped his ramblings and was still. She said nothing about it to Alice, who did not seem to notice or did not intend on mentioning it either, if she did. They climbed the stairs in silence. Mercifully, the Royal Suite was tucked just around the corner from the top of the west staircase. Mirana stopped outside of the suite doors, but Alice started to continue down the hall until she was pulled back by Tarrant's weight.

Mirana smiled gratefully at the girl. "Mr. Hightopp's room is too far away," she told Alice. "He needs to be settled as soon as possible."

Alice glanced at the woman quizzically. "He's staying with me," she informed an expressionless Queen. "It's the room at the very start of the corridor with the knight over the wing. It's not far."

The corner of the Queen's mouth twitched more pronouncedly than before. "He will most likely need medical attention. Anyone who comes up to this wing will come the same way we did. The closer he is to the stairs the better." With her warmest, most enchanting smile, Mirana reached out to Alice and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Thank you, dear. I'll be sure to tell Tarrant of your help and concern." With the remainder of her strength, Mirana fluidly pushed opened the suite doors and firmly pulled the Hatter way from the girl, leaving Alice suddenly standing outside the doors with the silver initials, WQ, staring coldly back at her.

* * *

There was no point in standing outside of the Queen's chamber. Doing so affected nothing and certainly did not help the worn-out Hatter inside. Alice quelled her worries by insisting to herself that the White Queen would take care of the Hatter and return to him to normal. After all, hadn't Queen done the same for her? In the back of her mind a doubtful voice questioned whether the White Queen was all that she seemed to be in a mad world where little was what it appeared to be. For the question, Alice had no answer and could only take it on good faith that that White was good and Red was bad. In the meantime, she would continue to attempt to find a way to wake up.

Did she still want to wake up?

It was quite possible, Alice knew, that she was in coma state from a fall that occurred in the gardens when she chased the white rabbit. It was quite possible that, at this very moment, her mother and sister were standing about her hospital bed sick with worry, not knowing if she should recover or not. It was also quite possible that Hamish with his digestive troubles was also leaning over her bed demanding that she wake up and marry him. If the latter was the case, Alice knew she did not wish to wake up. Perhaps sleeping forever was a far better way to go. Sleeping forever certainly had better company. As Alice contemplated all these things, she slowly made her way back to her room. She was very weary by now, nearly dozing off as she walked. As she entered the corridor her room was located in, she was awakened by the sight of a woman exiting her room. Alice frowned at the sight of the Queen's personal attendant, Clara, rushing away. The woman was not looking where she was going and crashed into Alice.

"Oh!" A strangled cry yelped from the woman's ashen face, but her expression hardened into annoyance. "Why, Miss Alice! I just went to check on you. Why are you not in bed yet? The Frabjous Day is mere hours away. You must rest."

"Yes," Alice replied, more peckishly than she intended. She was tired of being told what to do. Though she was exhausted, she would go to bed when it suited her, not when it suited the Queen or Clara! "I was checking on the Hatter. He isn't well."

"Truly?" The woman seemed almost delighted to hear this. Then, a very sly look swept over her sharp features. "Strange fellow, the Hatter, isn't he?"

"I suppose," Alice remarked carefully, a bit put-off by the woman to whom Alice would have applied the word strange.

"And mad as well."

"All the best people are," she said, automatically repeating what she had told Tarrant in Salazen Grum.

Clara smiled as though she had just pulled a secret out of Alice. "Ah, that doesn't surprise me to hear that."

"Hear what?"

"Just that you think he's special."

Alice blushed, but quickly hid the flush with a harsh frown at the woman. "I said no such thing."

"You didn't have to, dear. I can tell."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You fancy him is all," Clara sniffed. "It's fairly obvious."

"Is it?"

"Quite."

"Well, you're wrong," Alice said ardently. "He's a dear friend is all."

The attendant's expression turned triumphant. "A dear friend who fancies you as well."

"What?"

"Good night, Alice."

Alice stared after the woman. There was something about the woman that chased away the butterflies of hearing that the Hatter fancied her. Something was not right. Alice shook her head and entered her room. Sitting upon her bed was a box and the box further warned Alice that something was not right. Carefully, Alice undid the ribbon the held the box together and lifted off the lid. Inside, was an exquisite white hat with a petite veil dripped in pearls. One of the Hatter's creations, no doubt. A gift for her from him? Alice suddenly dropped the hat as if it had bit her and she shook her head. This wasn't from the Hatter, it couldn't be. The Hatter had never come by the room at all. She had been in the room after speaking with him out on the balcony and only left after seeing her bizarre reflection in the mirror. And now he was in the Queen's chamber. Someone was playing a trick on her. Who? Chessur! The cat was her first suspect and then thoughts of the Dormouse, who did not seem to like her much at all, sprang to mind. After all, wasn't Mallymkun the one who betrayed her to Stayne? Yet she had escaped and now the little mouse was going to torment her. Alice threw open the door to her room and stormed down the hallway with intent to give the dreadful rodent a piece of her mind. As she entered the main hall, Alice caught sight of Clara again, looking rather furtively about. The blonde's eyes narrowed and something in her gut told her to follow the woman. Leaving Mallymkun for later, Alice quietly slipped in behind the Queen's courtier, watching her intently. The woman disappeared before Alice's eyes into the wall after touching the chess piece that was carved into it. She was about to follow when someone else came down the hall. Quickly, Alice ducked behind a statue before she was seen. The woman was about Alice's height with hair like hers but in a paler shade. She too touched the chess piece and melted into the wall. More curious now than ever, Alice wondered where they had gone and how long they would be gone. The wait was short. Before long, Clara angrily reentered the hallway, dragging the girl, who face she could now see- she looked remarkably like Alice! Or would have looked like Alice had not been for the brightly colored, garish makeup she wore.

When they were gone, Alice followed their lead and touched the chess piece on the wall. It took her several tries to touch it just right and when she did the wall opened, allowing her entrance to a secret passage. Without knowing where she was going nor what she was looking for, Alice pressed slowly through the corridor, feeling her way along the dimly lit shaft. After going on a long distance, the passage suddenly opened into a large room with light pouring into it from a large window. In the room was a trunk and on the trunk a was a dress of mismatched fabric in odd colors. On the floor was a tray of face paint. And hanging on a hook above the trunk was a lavender top hat. The face of the girl who had been take away by Clara was painted with these same face paints and her hair had been tied in pigtails. Alice suddenly turned around and found herself facing not a window to the outside, but a window into her room! The mirror in her room was made of trick glass. Clara was responsible for her visions! But why? It simply did not make any sense as Alice had never met the woman before. Why would she do such a treacherous thing? How had Clara possibly guessed her feelings about the Hatter when she herself did not fully understand them? Alice stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily in anger and frustration for several minutes, desperately willing herself to wake up. In Time, she calmed down and was able to think again. _Nothing here is what it seems,_ she concluded. Nothing! Not the flowers, nor the creatures. Possibly, not even the White Queen. And certainly not whatever it was she feeling for the Hatter. Perhaps not even the Hatter was as he seemed. It came as some relief to Alice, actually, to concluded that absolutely nothing here was as it appeared. It would make it much easier to leave this strange dream behind. Otherwise, how awful it would be otherwise to wake, only to try desperately every night to get back to the same dream.

_Now then_, Alice told herself firmly. _All I need to do is wake up and I can forget all of this nonsense._

She tapped on the glass of the mirror to see if it was also a door, but it was not. Retracing her steps, Alice found her way out and went back to her room. She put the hat back in it's box and set it under the vanity. She took a sheet from the extra bed, still troubled slightly that it would not be filled that night, and hung the sheet over the mirror. Then she settled herself in bed and tried to sleep. But the man in singed top hat would not leave her alone.

* * *

One might be surprised to learn that the White Queen was incredibly stubborn when a notion became set in her mind. The particular notion in her mind at the moment was to care for the Hatter on her own. Which was not the easiest of things when it was necessary to get the man passed out on the bed into a tub of water. Smelling salts would be of the most help in waking him up, however, it would also require leaving him to get them and the other ingredients that she needed. An unfounded worry that Alice would reappear if she left seized her and she stubbornly refused to set foot outside of the room. As Mirana was examining ways out of her predicament that did involve the simplest solution, she heard a scuffling outside the door that made her pause. The sounds stopped, then started again. She stared at the door as her pulse quickened and her palms dampened with nerves.

_Go away, Alice_, she thought severely at the door.

_Scratch, scratch, scratch_ came the strange rapping at the door. Mirana closed her eyes and inhaled to compose herself. "Yes?" she called out in that false sing-song voice that she was beginning to loathe.

"Your Majesty?" came the familiar gruff voice Bayard.

A sigh of relief escaped Mirana and she left the White Queen behind with the Hatter to open the doors.

"Come in, Bayard," she said, delighted to see the dog. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, I just thought I'd check in on you before retiring for the night." The dog glanced at the Queen's bed and nodded at the Hatter. "How long has he been out?"

"Not long."

"Tarrant's lasted longer than I expected considering everything that's happened." Mirana could hear the admiration in his voice . "Do you need any help?"

Her eyes lit up. "Just a small favor."

"Anything."

"There are several items from the kitchen I need," she said. "In order to heal him and to help him rest."

"Make a list for me, Mirana, and I will get them for you."

Tired though he must have been and eager to get back to his wife and pups, Bayard was swift and methodical in his run to the kitchen and did not leave an item behind. With her ingredients in hand, Mirana mixed the various herbs and spices together until she had a liquid of amethyst, fragrant with the scent of lavender and willow trees. She glanced worriedly at the man fitfully sleeping on her bed and hurried to the lavatory to draw a bath. Into the warm, running water she poured the purple formula, watching it bubble and fizz as a sign of its effectiveness. As the bath continued to fill, Mirana went to her wardrobe and took a set of folded clothes in peacock blue from the back. Embroidered on the pocket in flourished script were the initials WK. Though white was the color of the monarchs, she had the clothes commissioned in blue for she could not bear thought of Tarrant being stripped of his color. She paused a moment to run her hands over the silky fabric, then also took out a plush white robe that had once belonged to her father and set it and the pajamas on a bench near the tub. It took the smelling salts, after all, to wake the Hatter from his tormented slumber. They woke him enough for him to get himself to the lavatory and into the tub. The aromatherapy of the bath would keep him alert enough that Mirana would not have to worry about him falling asleep and drowning. As he soaked, Mirana prepared a pot of chamomile tea to his liking which was sure to help them both sleep more peacefully.

He returned from the bath looking a bit more himself, though the steam from the bath had not taken out the exhaustion from his eyes. He took a spot next to her on the window seat, gratefully accepting the tea cup from her. He inhaled the fragrance of the tea, took a sip, and smiled, deeply touched that she remembered precisely how he liked his tea after all this time. Setting his cup down on the window's ledge, he turned slightly to face her, and was surprised to discover how awkward he felt. He tried to dismiss it, but the feeling would not leave. She wasn't looking at him, but rather at the tea held close to her nose as she blew on the steaming liquid. Her brown eyes were troubled. He continued to stare at her expectantly, but still she did not look at him. The longer he watched her, the longer his face grew with concern. The awkwardness between them was expanding, not growing smaller. So much so that he realized with a fright that he was actually more at ease around Alice than around Mirana. Troubled, a thought struck him at precisely the same moment she looked up at him.

"Am I mad?" he asked seriously, becoming suddenly jittery. He looked so lost, so alone, so fearful that it startled Mirana.

"Well," she said hesitantly, unsure of how he might respond to any answer she might give, but she could not lie. "Yes." She couldn't quite make heads or tails of the question. Given his chosen profession, madness was to be expected; it was something they had accepted long ago. Or at least, Mirana had.

He stared at her with dismay in his great green eyes. She could literally see him lose confidence at her response. "It's worsened greatly since that day."

_The Horunvendush Day,_ she though grimly. "I suppose it has. Does it make a great difference?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. His voice dropped until it was hard to hear him and he glanced at her shyly. "Does it to you?"

"No. It never has."

He perked up at this and smiled enough to show off the gap-toothed grin she adored. Mirana couldn't help but smile with him. The grin widened as he said, "Alice says all the best people are mad."

At the mention of her name, the mood was shattered and the White Queen been to quake. "Alice says," she spat. She didn't mean to mock him, but the girl brought out the worst in her. "Alice says, Alice says!" She slammed her cup and saucer down on the window's ledge, splitting the saucer neatly in two. She then shot up from her seat and flounced across the room, leaving a befuddled Hatter behind.

"Mirana?" he ventured cautiously.

Mirana pursed her lips together tightly, careful to keep her back to him. When she finally turned back to him, a coldness had settled in her fair features. "Because it is safer for us all to remain in the inner sanctum and because there are limited rooms," she replied, repeating her suppertime announcement. "You may stay here as this is your room, after all, or you can stay with Alice."

Tarrant frowned, not following her logic in the least. "Why would I stay with her?" he asked, coming to her side.

"Isn't that what you had planned all along?" She scooted away from him.

"What is wrong with you, lass?" he asked, sadly, reaching out for her.

Mirana jerked away suddenly and moved towards the door. He followed. Before her hand touched the door knob, he took her arm and forced her to face him."Alice is waiting for you," she snapped. Her skin was frigid to the touch.

"What is going on, _mo muirnín_?"

She didn't seem to hear him or even see him. "You're hurting me," she hissed angrily. "I think you should go to Alice, Mr. Hightopp."

Tarrant's jaw dropped. Unable to believe what he heard, he let go of her. Disbelief turn to hurt and hurt gave way to anger. "Mr. Hightopp?" His eye flared vibrant yellow. "Is that how ye've come to think of me? So Iracebeth did speak the truth then! Ye do no longer have any affectionate feelings left for me!" He advanced on her menacingly, his voice a deep growl. "No more affection than ye have for those lightening bugs ye so despise!"

"I've no affection for _you_?" Mirana cried in outrage, refusing to back away from him. They were nose to nose now. "I am not the one who betrayed my vows for Underland's champion!" She trembled with a repressed violence.

Tarrant's eyes faded to green as he tried to come up with some sort of response to such allegations. Mirana saw the wounded expression upon his visage and knew that her accusation was cruel and unfounded. Her anger subsided, but it was too late to regain her composure for the White Queen's facade was now out of her grasp. "I hate her!" she finally, tearfully, admitted. "I hate Alice!" He would be repulsed by her now to hear that she harbored the same sinister sins as her sister, who hated everything and everyone, and loved nothing but Stayne and the crown. But the moment the words left her mouth, they also left her heart and she felt as if a tremendous burden had been lifted off of her.

He had no harsh words for her and no defense for Alice; Tarrant only tenderly collected her in his arms and when he did she burst into tears. The corners of his mouth pulled upward into a partial smile for jealousy was an emotion he was well acquainted with as he had once been in a state of constant turmoil when Stayne was so ruthlessly courting Mirana. That delusional jealousy remained even after they had wed. For some inexplicable reason the memory struck him strangely and he began to laugh uncontrollably. "Heehee, look at us," he chortled, still clutching her tightly. "You... me... cards...a pair... not a full deck... heehee!" Mirana looked up at him with tears still streaming down her face and she, too, began to laugh at the absurdity of it all. And the more they thought of all they had been through, all that Underland had been through, the harder they laughed until they could no longer stand and melted to the floor. Finally, they quieted unable to sustain so much as a peep as breathing was now too painful. The Hatter and the Queen sat on the floor for a long while, hugging each other tightly until Tarrant spoke up with an observation he had made earlier: "You know, everyone received a kiss from you upon their return to Marmoreal. That is, except me."

Mirana reached up and wrapped her hand around his neck to pull him closer. She felt a sharp, painful tug on her hair and instinctively pulled away, worsening the pull. Somehow her hair had become entwined around one of the buttons of his nightshirt and no matter what she tried, she could not get her hair free. The Hatter was no use for the moment she looked up at him with a helpless look, he dissolved into another fit of mad giggles taking Mirana with him.

_Curiouser and curiouser_, as Alice would say.

* * *

The Castle of the White Queen was well protected by the Chess army, just as her sister's castle was protected by the Card army; but every fortress had its weak point. Stayne found that weakness in a peculiar dark garden that exited conveniently into the main Gardens of Marmoreal. The grounds were still as all of Underland slept in preparation for the war that was just hours away. On this Night of Nights, the Jabberwocky's prophesied Champion was alone and unguarded on a low balcony overlooking the Gardens in which he stood. How easy it would be snatch pretty little Alice from the safety of Marmoreal and hand over her to the Red Queen for her execution, thus insuring their victory on the Frabjous Day.

He watched with interest as her lovely features twisted and contorted with the conflicting emotion that tumbled through her mind and he wondered what exactly was causing her such upset. It occurred to him that Alice had not yet decided to be Underland's Champion; she was such a willful thing that it was possible that she would refuse to do it. It would certainly make the outcome of the battle delightful if he were to steal Alice away and convince her to fight against the White Queen. The idea of Alice riding into battle before the Jabberwocky leaving the White kingdom without anyone to wield the Vorpal Sword caused a smile to overtake his features. Ilosovic had not smiled a real smile in a very long time. He wondered who would step up then, if not Alice, to be the White Queen's Champion. The Knave's smile grew wider. The Hatter, he knew, would do it as the madman had always nursed delusions of becoming a White Knight to impress the fair Queen. To watch the Hatter fall to Jabberwocky would be terribly satisfying... almost as satisfying as taking the Hatter's head off himself.

His good eye darkened as thoughts of the Hatter and White Queen and the humiliation they caused him sprang unbidden to mind. His ruin was their fault and he had nursed a bitter hatred for the pair since before the Horunvendush Day. Had it not been for them, he also would not be in the position he was in now, as the Red Queen's right hand man. It was an inferior position to be her knave and he despised her now more than he despised her sister, though not quite as much as he despised the Hatter. He was born to rule, such was his lineage, and he would have been a good king, a powerful king. But only with Mirana at his side. Iracebeth had offered him the crown after she had her husband beheaded, claiming he was carrying on an affair with her sister. The jealous bird was so blinded by jealousy and insecurity that she could not see that her sister was enamored with her deranged Hatter, not her strange little brother-in-law. Ultimately, though, the accusation of an affair was an excuse, he later understood when Mirana told him, either out of kindness or spite, that Iracebeth was in love with him. The King's sudden demise, left Iracebeth in power and free to remarry. Stayne declined her proposal as he was, at the time, engaged to Mirana. He had no interest in being engaged in what would surely be a never-ending power struggle with Iracebeth over how to rule if he was to become her king. Iracebeth listened to no one and did not do as she was told. Mirana, on the other hand, Stayne knew was never really interested in ruling; she only wanted to play house. And that made her his ideal queen. While she kept busy with children and whatever flighty nonsense women engaged in, he would be free to rule as he pleased without a word from any queen. In Time, he was, however, left without a choice in the matter to serve Iracebeth. Certainly, the Jabberwocky was an incentive enough to put up with her amorous behavior.

Alice's gaze swept out over the Garden's and briefly came to rest on the tall, willowy figure of the Knave whom she mistook for a thin tree. With a final glance at the Heavens, the young woman retired to her room. Still, the Knave could so easily climb up that balcony and snatched the pretty little thing out of her chamber. But if he did that, then the Jabberwocky would not be slain, the White Queen would not regain the crown, and he would not regain his rightful place in Underland.

Stayne turned and marched purposely into the shadows, using his sword to keep the Snap-dragons at bay as he exited Marmoreal the way he entered. The Red Queen wasn't the only one who had a plan for the Frabjous Day...

"_I will join these people's heroes. I will follow where they go. I will learn their little secrets. I will know the things they know... One day more..."- One Day More, Les Miserables_

* * *

_**This wouldn't truly be Mirana's story without some input from Iracebeth who's responsible for this mess. So the next chapter belongs to the bloody Red Queen and how she overthrew her little sister. ;)**_


	19. Interlude: The Knave's Lament

_AN: Been awhile, hasn't it? ***looks around sheepishly*** Work and working on my Tarrant and Mirana figures have been consuming my time and I'm still hammering out the next chapter in my head. Speaking of the next chapter, we deviate a bit from the White Queen, the Hatter, and Alice and look at things from a more unusual perspective. ;-) _

_This interlude poem is dedicated to Katherine NotGreat and is directly inspired by The Rogueries of the Knave Who Stole the Queen's Pies by Charles Lamb. I'm not a poet by any stretch of the imagination so please forgive any odd stanzas or rhymes. I hope it makes sense. XD_

_Lines in italics are direct quotes from the aforementioned poem. ;)_

**Interlude: The Knave's Lament**

The Queen of Red

Before her days of dread

Fancied a certain Knave of Hearts

More than she fancied sweet tarts.

And while eating pies thought of him all day.

* * *

The Knave of Hearts

He despised those tarts

And finally stole them clean away-

Deposing them where no one would ever find.

But it was not the tarts destroyed; within his mind

It was the Queen of Red

Who's affections he shed,

All down the incinerator's shoot.

* * *

Then the Queen of Red

In a terrible tantrum spread,

Awful threats of murders and malice

If her squimberry tarts were not returned.

Under great duress, the White Rabbit confessed-

It was the Knave whose thievery created such stress.

* * *

The kingdom of Hearts

Fully expected to see

The Knave beat full sore

For this was not his first offense.

But the Queen of Red

Let him keep his head

Once he vowed to steal no more.

* * *

Oh, miserable Knave! Look where your actions have led

Not a lowly varlet but a Captain instead

In the card army of the Queen of Red.

* * *

In Crims it was, that began the Queen of Red's

campaign of terrible dread.

Beside the Queen stood not the King

But the Knave of Hearts instead

As the King was long since departed.

Behead he was, one crimson night

For his imagined affections towards the Queen of White.

* * *

The Knave, he knew

There was nothing between the two

But Red's jealousy that festered and grew (much like her head).

He stood in the monarch's place,

the look of death always upon his face,

as he thought of the hypocritical twist.

* * *

The Queen of Red,

She ruled with dread ,

All since the Horunvendush Day.

Now the Knave of Hearts

Was trapped for his part

In White losing her throne

And being left all alone,

For a Champion she could now only pray.

* * *

The Queen of Red

Her affectionate touch filled him with unending dread,

For fear she might demand a kiss.

To oblige was the only way to ward off decay.

In public he adored her,

but in his heart he deplored her-

The bloody Queen of Red

Because of whom so many had bled.

* * *

The Knave, he had thought the tyranny was merited when it was ushered

by the humiliation he suffered

At the hands the Queen of White

and her hatted jester, who had delivered it with much delight.

Before Underland, the Knave, he had stood with the Queen

Vows of matrimony about to glean.

When up popped the madly giggling Hatter

Producing documents of ceremony

Then spiriting the monarch away as final testimony.

* * *

The Queen of Red

Had then offered him revenge in the words that she said,

"My sister and hatter, they're miserable and mad.

Let Underland flourish under our hand."

* * *

Now of the Horunvendush Day

as the poet did say:

"_Now first of May does summer bring,_

_How bright and fine is every thing!_

_After their dam the chickens run,_

_The green leaves glitter in the sun,_

_While youths and maids in merry dance_

_Round rustic may poles do advance"_

* * *

Then the skies darkened and the gathered did start

As the Queen of Red and the Knave of Hearts

Did advance on waves of bitterness and hate.

The Jabberwocky it slew

All but a few

And all of the Hightopp's clan,

Save one.

* * *

The sweetness of victory bitter soon turned

As the last of the village burned.

With the crown and the Sword of the Vorpal one obtained

The Knave realized there was no reward at all.

Now that the Queen of White had taken the fall.

Any power he possessed before was stripped bare.

Now the Proud Knave, in order to keep his head

for Red's favor he now kowtowed and begged.

* * *

Broken and bleeding,

Dying and needing ,

The wonder of Alice's land has gone.

"_Behold the due reward of sin,_

_See what a plight rogue _Stayne's_ in"._

Vengeance gives not way to satisfaction.

Bitterness reaps not reward.

And hatred binds its nurser as if held by a demon horde.

* * *

Now the Knave of Hearts

can only spend his odium on squimberry tarts.

His conciliation can only be found

In watching Red scream and stomp and rail

And then blame it all on the monkeys' tail.

* * *

Oh, Knave of Hearts,

Stop stealing tarts!

Run now to the fair White Queen.

Her forgiveness and mercy beg.

On the Frabjous Day, it will be too late,

Heed the White Rabbit's warning this date.

For once the dragon is slayed,

You death will be stayed

And your fate will be far worse.

* * *

For the rage of the Queen of Red

Will be nothing to dread

Compared White's punishment once imposed.

For then you'll wish to your dying breath

that you didn't have your head!

_

* * *

_

The Knave of Hearts

_He stole some tarts_

_All on a summer's day._

When the King of Hearts was still alive and called for those very tarts,

'Twas a pity the Knave wasn't beat full sore!

A much better lesson to learn than the one now in store.

Offer a prayer for the foolish Knave!


End file.
